The Souvenir
by Elbly
Summary: Sookie goes on a holiday of a life time, determined to go where the wind takes her, but is she prepared for some of the storms she'll face along the way? AU/AH - Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is my first ever fanfic, so please be nice. The main story arch is set and all mapped out, but little details in the chapters can and will almost certainly change if I'm presented with great thoughts and ideas as we go along.**

**Sookie goes on a holiday of a life time, determined to go where the wind takes her, but is she prepared for some of the storms she'll face along the way? AU/AH**

**Disclaimer: These sheep belong to Charlaine Harris, I'm just putting them out to pasture for a while**.

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**The Souvenir**

"Sookie, don't ask me why, but I need you to book three weeks off work. There's no rush, book them for whenever you like, but make sure they're three weeks together." Gran was being mysterious. This wasn't like her. "Talk to Neil then let me know the dates as soon as you can."

"Okay..." Anything for Gran, but this was an odd one.

Getting three weeks together wasn't going to be easy. Sure, I'd never really had any vacation time in the five years I'd been working at Brigant's Data Solutions over in Monroe, but it was still going to be tight. Neil was sweet about it though, and a day later I called Gran back.

"Hi there, this is Adele Stackhouse. Let me have your message or news after the beep, and I will call you back as soon as I can. Thank you."

_BEEP_

"Hi Gran, it's Sookie, I can get the first three weeks in September. Will that be okay? What's this about? Ring me back. Hope Jason's not eating you out of house and home. Let me know if you need anything. It's Sookie, if I didn't say. Bye." I don't know why I always said that last bit; I get so flustered by answer machines, do you get that? Where you can talk yourself round in circles just saying the same darn thing over and over because you've forgotten you've already said it, then get all embarrassed? I know I sure do.I was going round in two days, so I figured we could talk about it then.

**.-oOSOo-.**

It was a balmy summer day when I drove over to Gran's. It was my birthday and I had the entire weekend off, everything was fine. I'd packed a change of clothes, my favourite sunbathing bikini and a handbag full of happiness.

Gran greeted me at the door with the hug that says _you're home_, and the sweet smell of home baking. I grew up here; it's a beautiful house – in my eyes it is anyway. Built and added to over the years, it's a hotch-potch of styles, with furniture to match. You can't see it from the main road; we're a private clan, we Stackhouses, all apart from Jason, my elder brother, whose aim in life is to be as un-private with every woman who'll look at him as it's possible for a human to be.

"I've cooked your favourite Sookie!" chirped Gran, pleased as punch.

"Anything you cook is my favourite, always has been, always will be."

I loved being home. I snuck into my old room that was still laid out as it had been when I was permanently in residence here. I dropped my bags on the bed and got ready to greet the sun. In my bikini and robe I wandered through to the kitchen to see if there was anything I could do to help Gran. It was my birthday and she was going to say no, but she'd raised me to be polite and helpful, and I was damned if I wasn't going to be a granddaughter to be proud of. She smiled at me and handed me an iced tea and told me to go relax, lunch would be ready in an hour or so.

Jason didn't live with Gran, and I often worried that she might be lonely now that I'd moved out, but it did seem that he came round regularly to do some of the more manly chores, mowing the lawn, chopping firewood and such – as well as eagerly devouring everything in Gran's fridge. I kept suggesting she put a padlock on it, but, despite being well aware of Jason's failings, she would insist on turning a blind eye to that one. "Got to keep a growing boy fed," she'd tell me whenever I commented. "Yes Gran, but we all know which bit it is that keeps growing... and it's not his feet!" And we'd both fall about laughing. I could crack a sex-related joke from time to time, goodness knows Jason had provided me with enough ammunition over the years, but I certainly wasn't the most experienced girl in the world.

"How's the love life Sookie?"

I sat up on my elbows on my favourite sun bed, lowered my sunglasses and looked up at my dear brother. It was a fair question, but a real sore subject.

"It doesn't exist Jason, John and I ain't an item any more, I'll thank ya very much for askin'." John Quinn and I had been dancing around a 'relationship' for some months, but there was always something that seemed to get in the way. In the end I just gave up and told him it wasn't worth it. The physical side was good – better than the first boyfriend I had, but then how many of us really have great sex the first time round? You neither huh!

I lay in the sun for over an hour while Gran pottered in the kitchen and Jason did whatever Jason does, rotating myself like a hog roast as the rays kissed my skin. I know it's unhealthy, and no, I don't use sun block, but I don't smoke and I barely drink, so give a girl a break! Eventually Gran called me to the table on the back porch, which she'd laid with a whole range of my favourites. After we ate our fill, Gran disappeared back into the kitchen and reappeared with a birthday cake, with 25 lit candles. She laid it on the table and went back in to fetch something else.

"Happy Birthday Sookie!" Gran handed me a beautiful grass green silk-covered folder tied with a sunshine yellow velvet ribbon. "This is a once in a life time treat. There'll be no arguing with us about it. It's from me, Jason and a few of your friends who are still in Bon Temps"

As I gingerly opened the folder and looked inside I nearly fainted. Tickets, money, details... I read through them and then stopped gawping like a fish.

"First three weeks in September Sookie – you're going to England." Jason crowed, so pleased with himself that you'd have thought he'd planned it all. I didn't doubt my brother had helped, but I knew from experience that Gran would have done all the work, and Jason would try to take all the credit. "We've got you your flights, a rental car, a couple of tourist guides and booked the first night's accommodation."

"Hopefully there's enough money to live on while you're there. It won't be a luxury break, but you're a sensible girl, a little planning and you'll make it stretch I'm sure." Gran knew me so well. I would rather have three weeks and live on beans than a luxury break that went faster than you could say 'shoot'.

I didn't know what to say, I was in absolute awe. I'd always wanted to travel, but there was no way I could afford it. This must have cost a small fortune. I threw my arms around Gran and Jason. "I can't say thank you enough!"

"Well if you can't come back after three weeks with a handsome Englishman on your arm Sook you're no sister of mine"

**.-oOSOo-.**

I handed my ticket to the air stewardess with a huge grin on my face. I took my seat (by the window! How exciting!) and mused over the weeks that had rushed by since Gran handed me that folder. I managed to put together what I thought would be a suitable wardrobe to take with me; according to my travel guides, English weather was notoriously fickle, and in my three weeks I could be subjected to sunshine, rain, wind, or possibly even snow, though that was highly unlikely, it being September. I had a pair of nice shoes for going out, a pair of sensible day shoes and a pair of walking boots. I really wanted to see some of that famed English countryside, possibly the Peak District, a night out in London – maybe even the theatre, and who knows what else. I'd done a little research, and quite a few people suggested playing the trip by ear. I was planning on staying in youth hostels to save money, and there were likely to be others in my position, so a chat over dinner might lead me on some amazing adventures. I'd prepared for myexhaustingly long flight: three romance novels, an iPod full of tunes, my little netbook, camera and a bag of my favourite sucking sweets.

I fastened my seat belt and tried not to get too anxious about the journey when my new neighbour appeared and put his bags in the over head locker.

"Hey girlfriend!" he sang in a husky drawl, "we have a whole heap of time to learn to love each other, I'm so excited. I can tell from your choice in books we are going to be BFFs by the end of this flight." He waved the exact same romance book at me that was sat on my lap. My eyes could not have opened wider if they'd tried. He was a well-built black man in makeup. He minced like a queen, and from the way he spoke to me I had to assume he was a gay as the merry month of May. But his manner was just so relaxed and affable that I couldn't help but chuckle, and I found myself taking an instant like to him.

"Sookie Stackhouse, nice to meet you."

"Lafayette Reynolds." He took my hand and pressed it his twinkling glossly lips. "And the pleasure, sister, is all mine."

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**A/N:** **I know there's no Eric yet... he's running some errands right now, but he'll join us eventually.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has either added me/the story to their favorite or who has put this story on an alert… I can't tell you how exciting it is to see each little message in my inbox!**

**In answer to a question about my previous chapter: I have purposefully changed the spelling of 'Niall' to 'Neil' – this is just to give me scope to play with the character if I have time.**

**From now on in the PoV of the person telling the story may change during the chapter. I don't want to keep writing "**_**Name**_** PoV", so instead look out for the little breaks (****.-oOSOo-.) If the PoV is changing, then the letter in the middle of the break will give you a clue as to who speaks next.**

**And finally (for now): A HUGE thank you to PlonkerOnDaLoose & Valkyrien! I'm unbelievably grateful to them for their commentss and input which they manage to fit into their busy and hectic lives.**

**Disclaimer: These sheep do not belong to me, they are the property of Charlaine Harris - I'm just putting them out to pasture.**

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**The Souvenir **

**Chapter 2**

And so started my first ever vacation friendship. We chatted about books while everyone else piled on board, squashing their flight bags into the overhead bins, and then themselves into the cattle-class seats. The plane seemed so spacious when I first got on, being one of the first to board, but as it filled up I realized how cramped it really was. My excitement waned somewhat, but Lafayette's relaxed manners eased my fears. I couldn't tell if he was a hardened flier, or if he was just naturally calm; either way I was slightly jealous, as my stomach was starting to do flip-flops. I paid close attention to the stewardess while they ran through the safety procedures, but Lafayette just read his book. Afterwards he quietly said, "The chances of another Miracle on the Hudson are slim... We go down sister, we stay down. Simple as."

I gulped. This was a safe way to travel... _right?_

"Oh don't fret yourself girlfriend! I do this every year. I think I'd stop breathing if I didn't get my UK therapy."

For nearly eleven hours Lafayette and I gossiped like old school friends. We talked hair, makeup, boys, films, jobs, hobbies; every topic possible seemed to get covered by our girl-talk. The stewards came around several times, interrupting our conversation with warm plastic food and a couple of much-welcomed gin and tonics. My new girlfriend quietly grumbled about the food, saying he should have brought his own with him. It turned out that he was a chef at a relatively upmarket restaurant in New Orleans, and food was an important part of his life, not just his way of earning a crust (so to speak) but it sounded as though it was his mission in life to feed everyone he met.

"So what's taking you to the UK Sookie honey? Family, work, _pleasure_?" he asked, drawing out the last word with a naughty grin and raised eyebrows.

"Oh no, I'm avoiding men for a while I think. Things are always messy there. No, this is my birthday present: three weeks of fun and adventure. I have my first night booked for me, then I figure I'll chat to people and get suggestions on where to go. I've got no idea where I'm going or what I'm doing, I thought I'd just see where the wind takes me."

"Girl you just found you first zephyr! Come, stay with me! I'll take you places you never have dreamed of going in all yo' saintly white days."

I'd known him at this point for all of eleven hours and if I'd said no my life would probably have turned out so differently – But this was meant to be an adventure. Hadn't I just admitted to going with the flow? Here was my first opportunity to let fate take control of my vacation and experience something new. I could have been stepping into a whole heap of trouble, sure he seemed friendly and not interested in me in any sexual way... But how did I know that he wasn't going to take me someplace hidden and dark and end my life for me? But 'Crazy Sookie' answered, and she said, "Sure, why not!"

"Fabulous! I'm staying at a friend's on the edge of London for the first couple nights, then I'm headin to the Welsh Mountains. There's this lovely little farm I know that takes backpackers... I swear you ain't never tasted lamb 'til you've eaten Welsh Lamb wit' locally grown leaks and roast new potatoes! You absolutely has to come with me."

Not just a zephyr then, more like a whirlwind.

"Oh, and tonight, to beat the jet lag blues, you and me, girl, we going on the Razz!"

"The what?" I asked, confused and, by this point, mildly concerned I'd chosen the wrong answer to his earlier question.

"The Razz! The Razzle! Sookie, honey, we are going to PAR - TAY!"

**.-oOLOo-.**

I sat down next to this pretty blonde creature, and the moment she open her mouth I knew I had to get her to Pam's. It was painfully obvious that she was an innocent, probably raised in a small backwater town and never ventured far from it. Not that many people take kindly to sitting next to me on a flight, they often shift they judgmental asses in they seat so they're as far away from me as possible, which often isn't that far in such a sardine can environment – but Sookie was different. Her smile and laugh were infectious, intoxicating almost; if she'd been male I'd have been trying to get into those pants faster that you can say, Woooh! Y_ou's how big Lafayatte?_

I met Pam on my first trip to London, many years ago, and through her I moved up from short order cook in a small time bar to head chef at a first class restaurant. She'd also saved me more often than I care to remember after I'd drunk a few too many and decided to get fresh with the wrong men. I was beholden to her, in ways I couldn't explain to you.

Sookie and I made our way through immigration, waited an age at the baggage collection, then passed through customs without any issues. That was a first for me, I often got pulled over simply for being different. We picked up the keys for her rental car, which turned out to be one of the smallest cars ever made. Sookie was okay, she's not exactly a huge woman, but being a big fucker I found myself exchanging one sardine can for another. I was half tempted to take back my offer of taking her to Wales, but the dollar signs that could result from the trip flashed before my eyes and I figured that a few hours of discomfort was worth it. Speculate to accumulate!

I could see she was still having doubts about staying with a strange man in a strange country, and believe me, they don't get much stranger than me, but I did what I could to make her relax. The flat was a three bedroom Penthouse in a gated community on the edge of Richmond, West London, the type of place that would cost you yo' soul to buy, probably the souls of yo' whole family too. When we arrived, I showed Sookie to the larger guest room, insisting she took a nap. "I'll wake you in good time to get ready before we go out. Trust me when I say you won't believe the type of attention you'll get at the places I'm gonna take you!" I promised.

**.-oOSOo-.**

"Well look at small, blonde and innocent! Aren't you sweet?"

I turned round and stared up at a stunning blond woman who seemed to be leering at me... I don't think I'd ever been ogled by a woman, at least not that I'd ever noticed, but then I'd never been to a gay club either. London certainly was turning into a city of firsts for me. Lafayette had been right about my lack of belief at the attention; I felt like a chaste virgin in a meeting of hungry vampires.

"Not really," I answered. Okay, lame, but I wasn't going to flirt with her, I didn't want to give her the wrong idea. Oh where are you Lafayette? I looked around desperately. Aha! I found him and beckon him to come and save me.

"PAM!" _Lafayette knew this woman?_ "I see you's met Sookie! Isn't she adorable? She's not on the dark side though, bitch, so paws off!"

"How could you bring me such tasty treats to eat then tell me she's not _al a carte_?"

"Well if she wants to swop teams I'll make sure she knows she could do much worse than a nibble from you to show her what she's missing out on."

Swop teams? Oh! Hmm...

"I'm standing here you know!" I snapped, incensed that the pair of them seemed to be chatting about me as though I was in another room.

Lafayette put his arm around me in a comforting, fraternal way. "Look Sookie, Pam's a honey, she talks the talk and from what I hear REALLY walks the walk, choo know what I'm sayin', but she's actually a tame little kitten. She'll look after you if I happen to disappear." He grinned a very cheeky grin and winked, then looked over at young, dark and handsome in the corner who smiled back at him... Oh!

Ditched by a mate for a man! Well that had happened many times before, but never before had that mate been male themselves.

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**A/N: Yes, I know, I know, Eric's still not here, but he just rang! He said he's really sorry, he got stuck at the supermarket… he's going to try and join us for chapter 3, but the traffic's horrible out there.**

**Also - Lafayette's PoV is me tempting to write in his style of speaking, and not me being utterly unable to type.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Disclaimer – Charlaine Harris owns these sheep, I'm just putting them out to pasture.**

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**Chapter 3**

I had to grudgingly admit that this little creature before me just oozed sex. Her curves were voluptuously ripe, her lips just the right side of 'bee stung' and her baby blue eyes glowed with a blend of interest, excitement, desire and best of all, innocence. I had no idea what bond she and Lafayette had formed in those hours squashed together in that inhumane mode of transport, but he seemed very taken with her, almost bewitched. My curiosity was piqued. To say that women normally held little interest for Lafayette was painfully understating the issue, so Little Miss Sunshine here was worth closer inspection... much closer.

"Drink with me." I motioned her towards the bar and nodded at the new bartender. This one was good, but I wondered how much longer we'd be able to keep her; the place never seemed to have much luck with bar staff, but new ones always had a habit of appearing just when you needed them.

"Thank you, but I should just wait for Lafayette," she replied awkwardly. Bless her, she thought I was trying to flirt with her.

Wonderful! This was going to be fun.

_Pamela! Not for you!_My mind shouted at me. Pah!

"It wasn't a request. You won't see him for the rest of the evening, he's lost in Latino Boy over there, he'll be back tomorrow." I turned to the bar tender. "My usual, twice, make them large."

I looked back at Sookie and quickly reassessed her. "Make that one large and one medium... No, make that medium a small." There was something about Sookie that suggested that not only was she not a big drinker, but that getting her drunk might be a big mistake if I wanted her to feel at ease.

With two glasses in hand I led her to my booth where we would be able to hear each other without having to scream our lungs to shreds. A couple of young lovers were enjoying the privacy in a rather non-platonic way. "Move!" I barked. One of the two boys, and they weren't much older than boys, turned with a scowl and ready with a rebuke, but after he saw it was me wielding the eviction notice, he grabbed his boyfriend's hand and fled to find another corner to continue their dalliance.

"Do you own this place?" Sookie asked me, having taken note of people's reactions to me.

"Let's just say I keep an eye on it."

I handed her the smaller of the two glasses, and, with a delicious southern drawl, she thanked me. Now if you'd been in my shoes, my divine Fluevog Listen Ups to be more precise, you would have had a hard time not playing with this sumptuous little mouse too, watching her scurry and freeze at opportune moments; it was positively heavenly. But, alas, Lafayette had brought her for other reasons, and I had to behave. Shame!

I can be nice when nice is called for, honestly, no, really, I can.

.-oOSOo-.

When Lafayette woke me from my nap earlier that evening he'd suggested I wear something comfortable but fun. I was tempted by a cotton summer dress (I'd brought a couple with me because I just love wearing them), but settled for white tennis shoes, jeans and a cute buttercup yellow tee that complemented my tan. He took me on the London Underground, which was quite an adventure in itself; I'd heard much about metro systems, but had never been on one. The map I picked up from the station looked more like a neat drawing of brightly colored worms to me; it seemed so simple, and kind of fun. We had to change lines, which seemed to involve miles of escalators, tunneled walkways and steps. I was so glad I had a guide, I was sure I would have lost myself in that underground maze forever if I had ventured forth on my own!

The bar was called "The Gay-sher Bar" (what kind of person finds puns funny?) and all the staff were dressed in kimonos. Not beautiful, printed silk kimonos like you see in films, but long, brightly-colored PVC ones, which just seemed wrong to me, with corsets instead of those big thick belts real geishas wear. I was beginning to feel out of my depth. After a while of talking together, Lafayette vanished, and I was left there, alone. The sudden realization of my situation hit me and the idea of being on my own in a strange country, with all my luggage in a place I couldn't get back to caused me to mentally slap myself. After standing by myself in a crowded room for ten minutes, staring at my feet to avoid stray glances from women who were definitely not interested in men, I tried closing my eyes and clicking my heels together three times and chanting to myself: _There's no place like home! There's no place like home!_

I opened my eyes and nothing had changed (well it had worked for Dorothy!), which was probably for the best; this holiday had cost my friends and family a lot of money, I had to do them justice by enjoying myself. I decided that it was time to quit my own private pity party and make the most of my time there. I lifted my head, smiled a slightly crazy smile and caught the eye of a stunningly beautiful blonde woman.

Lafayette came back to introduce her to me, and then vanished again so quickly I could almost see a puff of smoke. That was the last I was going to see of him for the night apparently.

Pam was marginally taller than I was with a slender frame and perfect hair and nails, but her air of superiority made me feel two-foot small. She was dressed in one of those lovely satin Chinese collar dresses that hugged her in such a way that it must have been made for her. I had tried a few of them on in the past when I'd seen them in TJ Maxx, but they were always too tight around the hips or bust, or too saggy around the waist, or the opening to the neck – you know that diagonal cut with the knotted buttons across it, that gapes and shows more breast and bra than is decent. You had to be either a man or a stick for the off the peg dresses to work, and Pam was definitely neither.

She made a young and enthusiastic male couple move from a booth and insisted that we got "a little friendlier"; thank goodness she meant in a friends way, rather than a more-than-friends way. Despite her austere (January 15th, Word of the Day from my calendar) demeanor (May 3rd), Pam was actually real nice in a strange kind of way. She seemed sarcastic and snippy, but at the same time quite warm and caring, a very playful mix that just made me want to play right back. We talked for a spell about London, my trip and the flight over with Lafayette (and his insistence that the male air steward was interested in serving him more than just drinks), the bar, shopping... Between the jetlag and the additional drink she ordered for me (by looking at the bar and snapping her fingers) my eyelids started to get quite heavy.

I tried so hard to keep my eyes open. What was I going do? Lafayette had vanished, I had no idea where I was meant to be staying, and I was fairly sure he hadn't left me with a key! Pam seemed nice enough, but did I really want to throw myself on her mercy for the night? Sure, Lafayette had said she was 'safe', but I'd already relied on Lafayette too much and look where it had got me.

As I considered my lack of options the noise in the bar drifted further and further away, the lights dimmed, and my world went black and silent.

.-oOPOo-.

Welcome to Ravenscroft Babysitting Service, don't hesitate to call Pam for all your babysitting needs. Thanks to Lafayette I now had to get this little sleeping Southern Belle home too. Joy!

The benefit of being me is being able to call on others to do your bidding. It's fantastic, really it is, you should try it! I had the bar staff order a cab then collared a willing butch regular who was without a Mr Right-Now for that second and had him carry Sookie out to the cab and travel with us so he could do my fetching and carrying the other end too. I pride myself in being stronger than I look, but I wasn't going to risk trying to man-handle her while wearing these heels, what do you take me for? Twisting my ankle is one thing, the pain goes away, but looking like a twat while I ruin beautiful shoes... the shame lasts a life time! I opened the door to the flat and directed him to the larger of the two spare rooms where he dropped her on the bed. I gave him enough for the cab ride back to the bar and shooed him out the door.

Oh, did I fail to mention she and Lafayette were staying with me? Where did you think they were staying? He's one of my favourite bitches; I insist he stays with me when he's in London because he insists on cooking wherever he stays! Have you tasted his lobster? WOW!

I admit I was half tempted to rummage in her luggage with the excuse of finding some night-clothes – curiosity has been known to be a weakness of mine, you never know what you might discover about someone – unfortunately for me she had already laid pyjamas out on the bed. So she was organised, huh – a good trait, one he values. I undressed her and put her in her pyjamas. Of course I got a good look, a girl needs something warm to take to bed with her, even if it's just mental images of the deliciousness sleeping one wall away.

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**A/N – Okay, yes, I know, I'm sorry! He was going to be in Chapter 3, but then it got too long and he couldn't wait around, so he insisted I chopped it in two and said he'd pop in for Chapter 4 (which was the second half of chapter 3)... honestly, I promise you he's there....**

**Pam mentions her shoes, Fluevog Listen Ups, Fluevog is the make, Listen Up is the type of sole, not the style of the shoe itself – which style she was wearing is something I'll let you decide for yourself. They do have a website, feel free to look them up, but don't blame me if you discover a new addiction!**

**If you've noticed that my spelling changes from English (U.K) to English (U.S.) from time to time... hopefully this only happens when I intend it to. I'm probably trying to be too clever, but the spelling changes depending on who's PoV it is... Pam's English, Sookie's not... See?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N – This chapter is longer than originally intended, but it's shorter than it was… Sorry if it spoils the flow for you dear reader.**

**Disclaimer – These are Charlaine Harris's sheep, I'm just herding them down the lane…**

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**Chapter 4**

_I dreamed I was in a strange bar surrounded by strange people in plastic kimonos, I have such an odd imagination..._ I thought as sleep slowly escaped me and I became hazily aware of the world. I didn't notice that my pillow felt different, or that my feet didn't find my slippers, or that the door was too close to the bed, or even on the wrong wall... I did notice though that when I opened the bedroom door I was greeted by a green faced monster, shaped like a woman with a hideously white lumpy head, in pastel pink silky pajamas.

I screamed.

"No, no, she's awake, if you couldn't tell from that noise, stay with Mr Latino for the morning if you like, I'll take her shopping"

Reality gradually pieced itself together and her name floated back into view from the hazy depths of my memory. I mouthed 'bathroom?' at Pam and she pointed me to the door across the lounge.

When I re-emerged Pam handed me a coffee saying "Milk and one sugar."

"How did you know?"

"It's my job to know these sorts of things about people." She replied to my amazed self. "That, and Lafayette remembered from your trip, that was him on the phone, he'll be back this afternoon and wonders if you want to join him on his trip to Wales round about that time... He mentioned a farm or something to you, he said."

I nodded while sipping my coffee. As the caffeine hit my brain, the building blocks of the world magically rebuilt themselves and the events of last night popped back into my memory.

"Thank you for getting me home last night." Southern girl, southern manners! Gran needed a granddaughter to be proud of. "We didn't... err..."

Pam smirked at first, then burst into a howling laugh. When she calmed down a little she replied, "No Sookie, no we didn't. I did get you ready for bed, but we didn't share it.

"So, finish that coffee, I'll go and get myself looking a little more human" she pulled the white towel off her head and her damp blonde locks fell about her shoulders in rat-tail-like strands. "Then we'll go and get some breakfast at the cafe down the road, followed by a little light retail therapy."

I had this strange feeling that Pam rarely asked anything, it was always a demand or command, and 'No' was not a response she tolerated. A small part of me was crying out that this was my holiday and I should be doing the things I wanted to do, but the rest of me was sensibly pointing out that this was only day one, and I had another twenty days to enjoy as my own. Plus, breakfast sounded like a great idea.

I disappeared back into the bedroom I'd been using, stripped off the cami and the dog-print lounge pants that made up my pajamas and stood there, naked and blushing. Pam had seen me like this? How embarrassing! Oh, never mind that now, I needed food, which meant I needed clothes. I fished around in my bags for some underwear, a pair of tights, a pretty blue and green cotton sundress and a short blue cardigan that complemented the dress nicely. Once fully dressed I slipped on a pair of black ballet pumps, brushed my hair, re-packed my bag and put on my best Sookie-smile.

The cafe was more of an up-market bistro than a cafe, with crisp white cotton table cloths and bent-wood chairs. Pam marched in confidently and made it known to the staff that she was claiming a particular table by snapping her fingers and pointing to where we were to sit, without waiting to be seated. She handed me the menu that was sat on the table, then proceeded to take out her cell phone and started to text.

"Just letting Lafayette know you're going to Wales" she informed me.

"But I..." I started, trying to point out that I'd not confirmed either way yet, and that I was rather hoping to do some sightseeing in London before moving on. I mean wouldn't you? I'd heard so much about the place, and being a small town girl I'd not had much chance to travel and see big cities, let alone somewhere as renowned as London.

Pam leant forward and stared me straight in the eyes, almost boring into my soul. "Sookie my dear, take some advice from me. London is a big and expensive place, you stay here now you probably won't leave for a week or so, and by then you'll have run out of money. Go with Lafayette, see parts of Wales and East England, move on and see parts of the rest of the country then come back here a few days before you leave to go home. That way you'll know how much money you have left, what you can afford to do, and you won't have missed out on an amazing opportunity. Trust me. Go with him... Just don't let him choose the music for the car." She grinned and winked at me.

She had a good point. My money would only stretch so far, and if I got too excited in London, seeing the rest of the country might be impossible. Lafayette had mentioned that this farm he was heading to was cheap and a good place to stay if you wanted to visit other places as it was quite central and not far from the main roads. _Go with the flow Sookie, have an adventure!_ I heard my head whisper. "Oh, sure, great, I'll go to Wales, that'll be just great." I tried to convince myself.

I looked down at the menu and suddenly realized how right Pam was. A small coffee worked out at nearly $4, and anything bigger than a croissant was going to set me back at least $12. Almost as though she could read my mind Pam assured me that this was going on her work expense account and I didn't have to worry about the cost. I didn't want to let her pay for me, I could afford this, if I ate jelly sandwiches for the rest of my trip that is, but she did rightly point out that she had chosen to eat here, not me, and it wasn't as though she was paying either. I swallowed my pride and decided on the scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on bagel. It did sound good.

When she noticed I was ready, Pam snapped her fingers again and called out "Okay Darren, we're good to go."

An attractive waiter made his way over to our table and fished his note pad from his apron pocket. He looked as though he was in his late 30's or early 40's with very dark receding hair. He was unshaven and looked somewhat sleepy, but he smiled genuinely at us, despite Pam's manners, and greeted us warmly.

"Pam! Great to see ya. How've ya been? Not seen the man for a while, he alright? What can I getcha?"

"I'm well, he's fine, away for a while, you won't see him until next year at the earliest I would guess. My usual please and Sookie here will have..."

"Scrambled eggs with smoked salmon, please. Thank you."

"Nice, nice, I'll get that for ya. Coffee? Tea? Juice?" We both ordered a coffee and he scuttled off.

We were mostly silent over breakfast while Pam read a newspaper, chuckling and occasionally nodding sagely. When I asked if the paper was a good one to check out while I was here to keep up to date with what was going on in the world she smirked and replied "The Sun? Jesus, no! It's utter drivel. I only get it for Dear Deidre, wonderfully insightful woman. I try to live my life by her advice. I've even had a letter or two answered." She seemed very proud about that.

I stifled my laugh. Here was Pam, dressed as though she was about to drive to the local country club in beige slacks, a cream roll-neck sweater and a tweed jacket, all perfectly contoured to her body as though no price had been too high to pay a tailor for her appearance, an apartment that Lafayette said cost heaven and earth to buy, and a command over other people that was dauntingly impressive, and she looked to an agony aunt for life advice? My day had just been made.

After we'd eaten, Pam settled up and asked for a cab to be ordered for us, explaining that she would take me into the centre on the tube again, but it would take too long. Again she insisted on paying, and I was about ready to stamp my feet and howl about how I was independent and more than capable of paying my own way, and then the taxi driver stated the fare. I let her pay.

It was a gloriously golden day. This little section of London had a few trees lining the streets, and the leaves were starting to change color. The buildings themselves were a silver grey and although not overly tall were very imposing. Pam kindly informed me that most of them were from the 'Georgian' period of history, which I was told you could tell from the size of windows. I just nodded and smiled.

Pam took me to a variety of amazing little boutiques and quirky shops that sold all manner of things. Noting that half the shops had no prices on display I recalled the little mantra Gran had drilled into me years ago: "If you have to ask, you can't afford it." So whenever a shop assistant offered help I smiled, thanked them and continued to browse. In about the third or fourth dress shop, Pam beckoned me over to the sales rail, pointing out that the prices were actually quite reasonable here. She whipped out a black knitted sweater dress and held it up against me. Black isn't normally my color, I prefer to be bright and gay and summery, but just touching this dress made me melt. The texture suggested it was made of cashmere and it had a soft, falling cowl neck and a matching knitted belt.

"The question you should be asking yourself is not 'Can I afford to buy this dress' but 'can I afford NOT to!'" Pam said teasingly, waving the price tag in front of my nose. Doing a quick conversion I figured that this would work out to about $35 dollars... The moment I slipped it on over my head and felt it gently hug my curves I knew that dress was _mine_, along with a pair of thick black tights that the shop assistant quietly reduced in price for me with a quick wink and smile. I had a feeling from the way she and Pam acted that Pam might well be a frequent customer here.

After my purchase we went for a little walk, as Pam seemed to appreciate that one dress was about all my budget was going to stretch to, at least this early in the holiday. She seemed quietly eager to show me different parts of this area of her city and I found myself wondering if she grew up here. We ended our little visit in a beautiful brasserie called Browns on Islington Green. The décor reminded me of those 1920's cocktail lounges you see in films; warm wooden furniture, with cream and deep red fabrics and brass fittings. The serving staff were all smartly dressed in white shirts, black trousers and ties, with perfectly starched aprons. I couldn't stop myself before I found my mouth open and the words had already come out: "If we're just having coffee here I'll pay, I think it's my turn. But not lunch!" I quickly added.

By the time we got back to Pam's flat, Lafayette had lunch served. He apologized for not using local ingredients and moaned about how hard it was to get hold of here in West London, then regaled us with details of Mr Latino (but thankfully not too many... )

Before I knew it my bags were packed and Lafayette and I were saying our fond farewells to Pam. I hardly had time to think before we were in the car and heading down the road. I didn't even have time to get my iPod out so that we could listen to my music choice and not Lafayette's, but it turned out that his taste in music was just fine. Just as we pulled away, Pam threw a padded envelope into the car with the parting words "Make sure she picks up a sim."

Lafayette dug into Pam's parting gift and took out a cell and a charger. "She's expecting it back – envelope's got her address on it, and probably enough postage to cover the cost. What choo do to make her love yo' ass, sugar?" he asked, raising a solitary eyebrow at me.

I laughed, "I woke up alone if that's what you're asking."

With the sun streaming down onto the road ahead of us, we pulled onto the M25 just as the perfect road trip song came across the speakers; Mr E's Beautiful Blues. We must have looked real funny to other drivers as we sang along: _God Damn right it's a beautiful day!_

.-oOSOo-.

Five hours later (it should have been closer to three, but we hit rush hour traffic just by Birmingham) and we were finally on tiny country lanes that would lead us to our destination. The narrow roads seemed to sink between three foot tall banks either side, made even taller by five foot high hedges, which did helped shield my eyes from the blindingly low sun, but gave me limited views of the road ahead. I slowly edged my little rental car along the daunting little roads at about fifteen to twenty miles an hour, making Lafayette push his foot to the floor hoping that a phantom pedal would speed the car up a bit. I was anxious that a car would come hurtling round the corner any second, so slow and steady seemed sensible. But it wasn't a car I needed to worry about. As we rounded the next corner we came t a grinding halt; towards us rolled a river of creamy wool.

I was mesmerized. I grew up in the country, sure, but it was cattle they farmed around an about Bon Temps not sheep, and I'd always loved them since watching the Wallace and Gromit film, 'A close shave'. It isn't every day I get to be a small island in a river of sheep as the flock split around us and merged behind. Sheep after sheep they kept coming, lazily meandering by as though they had all the time in the world, which I guess they did, since they were only on their way to the next field I guessed, or maybe a barn for the night, I wasn't sure.

"So is this rush hour in the country?" I jokingly asked Lafayette as I turned my attention away from the sheep for five seconds and watched him watching the woolly river.

"Mmm hmm, looks like. Check out that walking potential of a feast! Don't they make chou wanna wrap yo' lips around a rare lamb shank? Mmm!"

I was tired and hungry, and counting sheep was not helping me; I couldn't help but laugh.

Placing both hands on the top of the wheel and resting my chin between them, I was relieved to see the end of the stream of sheep was signaled by a collie casually trotting round the corner. He stopped and stared at us, turned his head back to see round the corner that was blind to us, I assumed to look for his master, then carried on following the sheep. I watched him as he checked both sides of the car for stragglers, and then padded passed my door. Making sure the road was clear I put the car in gear and slowly moved on.

As we edged our way around the bend there he stood; a giant of a man. He must have been 6ft 4" at the very least, so tall that the sunlight was skimming the tops of the bushes and setting his shoulder length white-blonde hair a-glow. His broad and beautifully muscular chest was smothered with a tight navy vest, his jeans followed curves which suggested his ass had real potential (I do love a firm, tight ass) and a hunter green sweater tied round his neck meant that his stunning arms were on show to the world. His boots were so caked in mud that brown was the only color I could see. Black shades hid his eyes from the world, his lack of smile making his chiseled face expressionless. I fought the temptation to check the sides of my mouth for drool.

He nodded to us slowly and deeply, almost like a bow, and then he moved to the side to let us pass.

"From one tasty feast to another! Mmn-nmn! Were yo' eyeing up that hunk o' goodness girl?" Lafayette teased, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

My lips twitched at the corner and I could feel my cheeks burning as I gave in to a full-on blush. Eyeing? Possibly. Ogling? Most definitely! It'd been many months since I slept with my ex, I'm a warm-blooded woman, I have needs... and eye candy is always welcome.

"If they make them like that around here, I think I might stay more than just one night," I smirked, and then promptly blushed again.

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**A/N – See! There he is! Just made it! Whew!**

**The Sun & Dear Deidre – it's real and an institution, 'nuff said!**

**London – I spent 4 years living in London, and Islington (the area of London Pam took Sookie) is somewhere I know reasonably well. The shops I mentioned are based on real shops I've been into there, but the dress (which is one I own) was an unbelievable bargain from a high-street chain, not a boutique; if I can find a picture on the web I'll post it in my profile. The café Sookie and Pam have breakfast in was modelled on a bistro I used to go to quite regularly in Chingford (the area of London I lived in) and Browns on Islington Green does really exist; I went there earlier this year and the cocktails are divine! (the coffee's okay too) **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - This chapter hasn't been beta'd because my lovely beta's are MIA. If anyone fancies offering up their beta'ing skills, I'd love to hear from you.**

**I've started paying more attention to Lafayette's speech patterns, so I've had to go back and change things in earlier chapters - this only alters the flow and not the actual story itself. Lafayette's PoV is now written in his 'tone', this is not me bastardising the English Language.**

**Disclaimer: These sheep belong to Charlaine Harris, I'm just putting them out to pasture.**

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**Chapter 5**

"Welcome! Welcome! It is so good to see you Lafayette, you did not say you were bringing the young lady! Très Jolie! So pretty!" gushed the woman in a strange accent that I was later to learn was a mix of French and Welsh. She welcomed us with open arms, quite literally, grabbing my shoulders and pulling me into a hug, kissing first one cheek, then the other, her effortless strawberry blonde waves bounced off my nose.

"Sophie Anne, Sookie. Sookie, this classy, yet mucky bitch is Sophie Anne. She run the farm wit' her brother, Andre. While we here she takes my crown and we bow to her as our queen." Lafayette said mockingly and winked at me.

Sophie Anne laughed an affected laugh. "Oh we do not stand on the pleasantries! You call me Sal, everyone does. And you call my brother Andy. But come in! Come in! You have had the long drive, no? You must be tired." Sal chirped, bustling me into the house. "Lafayette will get your bags in I think. Would you like coffee, or tea?" The smile that graced her lips was soft, warm and homely, but it seemed to stop there; her eyes were oddly cold. She looked me up and down, sizing me up. I wasn't sure if she was looking out of spite or out of interest; after meeting Pam I was not going to discount the possibility.

I declined the hot drink and Sal told Lafayette to put my bags in the guest room. "I put you next to Andy with us in the house, I think you would not like to be in the boys barn outside." Sal went on to explain that she and Andy had renovated the old stone barn buildings into a sort of hostel arrangement, and that they were split into male and female accommodation. The women's barn was closed right now as they only had male guests, and it would be silly to heat a whole building just for me.

Lafayette suggested we took a trek across the field to the local pub where he said we could get some dinner. He griped about being too tired to cook himself, telling me how he planned on treating me to 'culinary delights so divine they would make Baby Jesus cry for he momma'. I smirked at his brash confidence of his own skills while I fetched my boots, mentally patting myself on the back for having had the foresight to bring them with me.

As I sat on the stone step of the kitchen facing out to the farm yard, lacing up my boots, a warm soft snout nuzzled its way between my knees and I looked up into a pair of soft blue-brown speckled eyes. I love animals of all shapes and sizes, and although cats are a particular favourite, dogs do hold a very soft spot in my heart. I put myself nose to nose with him and rubbed eagerly behind both his ears. I was thanked most heartily with a big sloppy lick to my cheek. A giggle escaped me as I relaxed; I was beginning to feel very much at home on the farm as I fussed the muddy collie even more.

"That'll do Sam!" barked a harsh deep accented voice. "That'll do!"

The dog's body language went from excitable to melancholy as he wheeled away from me. I looked up to see the tall blonde shepherd from the road earlier, with Sam now sat at his feet. I took it that this must be Andy.

"Hi there," I chirped, smiled my best and most brilliant smile, and held my hand out to shake, "nice to meet you. My name's Sookie, I'm a friend of Lafayette..."

Without removing his black glasses, Mr Huge and Blonde looked up and said "_Il semble que n__otre petit zoo se développe._"

"_Oui! Mais les animaux sont beaux. Ici, elle est la plus mignonne, non?_" Sal replied, stepping into the doorway behind me.

The chill in the air was not the wind; I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. I was sure I was the topic of their brief conversation and my smile slipped into one less genuine. "We're going to go to the pub, did you want to join us?"

He angled his head back down to look at me and stared for a second or two, a slight smirk gracing his lips. He grunted and walked away.

I pulled my hand back slowly and finished tying my boots, feeling somewhat awkward and more than a little insulted. Good manners cost nothing, no matter how good looking you might be.

**.-oOEOo-.**

Sam hates strangers. Hell, he's not fond of most people, but the first time he meets someone his standard response is to growl warily, particularly at women. I put this down to our relationship: I am the pack leader and he is the perfect pack member and does as he's told. Most of his reactions come from his amazing ability to read me, so despite telling myself over and over again in my head that this radiant creature that had turned up with the queer was just another bimbo to ignore, Sam told me otherwise.

I watched her from my little cottage window, hopping and skipping across the muddy field in her light cotton dress and heavy walking boots, the last of the brilliant evening sun glancing off her hair, lighting a beacon to tell everyone in Llandifiau that an angel was now in residence at Fferm Llychlynwr.

Of course I was going to go to the pub, where else was there to go? I was here for the solitude, but I spent all day with no one to talk to but Sam, if I spent all night with him too I started to think he was answering me back.

I threw a basic and unappetizing meal together for me and dished up some food for Sam. Y Gafr's did decent food, but the menu never changed and eating out was hardly good for the waist line.

I continued to stare out the window, over to the now empty field, picturing the ghostly form of Sookie dancing her way to the local, turning back to laugh at Lafayette, glancing this way for just a fraction of a second. Did she see me then? Did she notice me staring? Or was the sun reflecting off the window, hiding me from her.

I went through the motions of the four S's, then at just before half seven I grabbed my keys, torch and coat, the temperature had dropped with the sun, and set off across the field. I told myself that the only goal I had was to sink a pint or three, but somewhere at the back of my mind I envisioned Sookie's smile and hoped that I might see it again before the night was through.

**.-oOSOo-.**

"Lafayette you gay bastard! Give us a hug!" came the lilting yell from an older wiry looking gentleman who seemed to dive out of nowhere to throw himself around Lafayette.

Y Gafr was possibly the most idyllic place I had ever stepped foot in, and this was coming from someone who grew up at Gran's house! I'd never been in a british pub before and but I have to say I pictured them being a little like this, so I was glad that my first experience exceeded my expectations. The building itself was two storey, but low, and walking in I felt quite tall as the ceilings were almost within my reach if I stretched. The walls and ceiling were creamy with oak beams, and everywhere was a hotch-potch of nooks and crannies and little private seating areas. The bar had beautiful pull handle pumps for the beer, and a daunting top shelf of malt whisky as well as a hearty selection of all the other standard spirits.

I left Lafayette to catch up with his friends and went to see if gin was amongst the bar's offerings.

"Ello _dar_lin'!" came the flirtations of the barman, as he threw the towel over his shoulder, grabbed my hand and placed a soft, succulent kiss on the back of my knuckles. Slowly releasing me, he smiled from the one corner of his mouth. "I'm gonna guess you're 'is mate, since you ain't Laf's normal type," he smoldered, "but you are mine."

He winked at me and I felt a warm sensation in the pit of my stomach. I bit my lip as I floated away on a current of soft brown floppy hair, deep brown eyes and an accent that had me hypnotized like a charmer's pungi to a snake.

"Bill! Leave my girl be!" Lafayette said as he put his arm around my shoulders and hugged me close.

_Bill? _I snapped out of it. "Barman Bill?" I asked, greatly amused, and chuckled softly to myself. "That sounds like a character from a children's book. Nice to meet you Barman Bill, I'm Sookie." I flashed my best smile and lightly fluttered my eye lids.

Turning his attention from me he looked at my protective queen and asked "So what'll it be bruv? Got some great ales in y'might like."

"Make it a pint o' something fruity" Lafayette said, rolling the 'r' in fruity and wiggling his hips a little. "Sookie? What about choo?"

"What you're havin'll be great… When in Rome…" I replied, still grinning like a fool at Barman Bill.

I took in more of the quaint and romantic feel to the pub as we sat eating our freshly cooked hot-pot with home baked granary bread at one of the smaller tables out on the main floor area, not hidden away in a nook or cranny. The furniture was all mis-matched and reminded me somewhat of Gran's. On the walls hung various old paintings, photographs, stitch-samples and tapestries. There was a very genuine 'added to over the years' feel to the place, as though each owner of the pub had never had the heart, or maybe the money, to redecorate, so a new rug was laid down when one wore out, chairs were fixed, or replaced as they broke, and every now and again a new decoration was added to a wall. On one of the oak beams above the bar was painted the phrase _Everyone should have a belief. I believe I'll have another drink!_

The pub's jukebox was pumping out a mix of rock and indie tunes from the late nineties, early two thousands; music that was bringing back memories of high school for me, a time when it had been 'cool' to be into Brit-Pop. Some of it really made me feel like dancing, a past-time I excelled at, but there wasn't enough alcohol in my system to make me get up and shake my stuff in front of strangers when no one else was doing it. Not that there wasn't space; there was a good sized area, clear of rugs, that would work perfectly for a dance floor, so I considered the possibility of getting up later, maybe dragging Lafayette with me.

The locals were very curious about me, which I found very sweet as I'm sure they get lots of strangers passing through all year round, but Lafayette seemed to be something of a celebrity. The quirky guy who had pounced on my friend earlier, introduced himself to me as Morgan the Car, "And that there's my brother, Morgan the Hair." He said in his sing-song voice, pointing to a bald man sat animatedly talking to others in one of the little booth areas.

"You're both called Morgan?" I asked, my eye brows knitting in my confusion.

"Of course we are! We're brothers!" he said in his lilting tone, making out that I was utterly stupid for thinking his brother might be called something else, like maybe Paul, or David, or Moon-unit or something!

Lafayette leant over to me and whispered "Morgan's they surname, honey." Of course it was, how embarrassing. I blushed, felt my nose wrinkle and my eyes scrunch up, and then felt a wave of relief as my embarrassment vanished into joyous laughter. Everyone around the table, and there must have been at least seven of us sat snuggly about that tiny table by then, joined in. I had only just arrived, but already I was at home with these people.

Someone was looking at me; I could feel the stare through the back of my head. I turned to look over my shoulder and caught his guilty eyes. I hadn't even noticed him walk in I had been so engaged with fitting in. The ice cold blue of his stare held me, irritated me, repulsed me. I shrugged off the bad feelings and turned back to my group. "Anyone for a drink? I think it's my turn." I chirped, indicting the mounting empty glasses.

**.-oOLOo-.**

She'd been in the pub for half a second before Compton the Goat turned on the charm like the shit he is. Whatever made Bill leave his precious Romford to come and live in the sticks, while still bitchin' 'bout how much he missed his home town… Damn! Did I not care!

Everyone loved Sookie. Of course they did, she won them over in an heart beat the moment she smiled at them and opened her pretty lips to drawl "How-dee-doo!" in her adorable way. Innocent, perfect southern manners and a radiant charm that sucked you in meant that the moment she stepped into Y Gafr's, every member of the village was solid gone, crawling over they selves to warm they hands in her glow, and I'm not referring to her pussy neither!

Everyone, that is, 'cept Eric. What a fucked up mother fucker!

He walked in 'bout an hour after us, ordered a pint then dropped he self onto a bar stool. Over the course of the next couple of hours he stared at the back of Sookie's head, breaking only to exchange a few words with Bill, none of them too pleasant from the looks on they respective faces. Well if he was going to be a miserable wanker (I love that word! Wanker! Best word the English have given us) then it was his own fucking problem! Choo know what I sayin'?

I concentrated on getting Sookie settled in and welcome, I needed her ass here for a few days at least, I couldn't have her running off jus' yet.

The following day would be Sunday, so unless I turned on my best charms I had no chance of any fresh food. Thankfully Jones the Meat was firmly embedded in the closet, and a little sly smile from my 'Money, Honey' glossed lips and flutter of these perfectly lined eyelids and I knew a couple of pounds of best beef would be tucked behind the church font for me after the morning service.

Just as he was about to leave Sookie finally caught Eric staring at her. His look, for the most part, had been one of curiosity, until he was busted that is and the stare became a resenting scowl. Well if the bitch hadn't been staring the first place…

When she turned back to us he let me know, wit' a nod and a couple of directed glances, that he was leaving he coat behind for Sookie.

Oh, I'm good!

After the next round of drinks I suggested to Sookie that we head off. "Oh look, Eric left he coat. Better get that back." I handed it to my little blonde asset, "Wanna wear it? It'll be cold outside"

"Eric?" She slid it on and it swamped her. I nearly laughed at the absurdity of it, but catching her half closed eyes as she wrapped the coat around her and breath in the smell of him, I stopped myself and simply smirked.

Damn! I'm real good!

"Yeah, Big Blonde from the farm" I replied, realizing that while she'd offered up her name, he hadn't responded.

"That's not Andy? Sal's brother"

"Hell no sugar! Eric's a WWOOF"

She grinned a little dizzy grin. "You can say that again… Woof!" she said, misunderstanding my meaning. "But rude!" she knitted her brow, the alcohol in her system opening up her thoughts like blossoming flowers. "I don't like him!"

_No of course you don't honey_, I mentally smirked to myself, _that why you hugging his coat and just lovin' that man smell of his_. "A WWOOF – it mean willing worker on organic farms"

Before we stepped into the brisk night air Sookie turned to Compton, gave him an earth-shatteringly amazing smile and drawled "Night Barman Bill, Night Y'all! See y'all at church tomorrow."

I chuckled to myself, knowing that in the morning Jones the God was gonna to have one of the largest congregations he had since Christmas!

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**A/N: Translations: ****_Il _**_**semble que notre petit zoo se développe **_**– it seems our little zoo is growing  
**_**Oui! Mais les animaux sont beaux. Ici, elle est la plus mignonne, non?**_** – Yes, but the animals are pretty. ****This one here's the cutest don't you think?**

**In case you've not come across it before, the four S's are 'Shit, Shower, Shovel (eat), Shave' in no particular order. No idea where this originates from, but it's something one of my ex's used to say all the time. **

**Confused by the Morgans? When the English made the Welsh take surnames, a lot of families took the same, or very similar, names depending on who they worked for – Jones being the most popular, meaning **_**John's. **_**In addition to this many men in Wales are named after the patron saint – St David. Because of the vast number of men who were called David Jones, people's professions/hobbies/skills were used to distinguish them, nearly always with a certain level of humor: Jones the Hair (hair dresser), Jones the Meat (butcher), Evans the Car (taxi driver or mechanic), Morgan the Death (undertaker), Evans the Top-Note (singer), etc. I have no idea if this tradition still continues – it did when my mother was growing up in the Mumbles (nr Swansea), which is where I know about it from and I loved it so much I had to use it.**

**Money, Honey is a pink tinted lip gloss from MAC… The colour might not be LAf's shade, but you have to admit the name is SO him!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: These are not my sheep, they belong to Charlaine Harris, I'm just putting them out to pasture.**

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**Chapter 6**

_As I gripped her soft white hips and tilted them forward she moaned hungrily. I teasingly lapped the beads of sweat trickling down her back, her cries spurring me on, making me harder, urging me deeper. She moved with me, taking everything I could give but still demanding more. The ache was intense, like nothing I had felt. This was perfection. _

_I withdrew, to her frustration and my own, feeling the cool air on an area that had, just moments ago, been within the silken heat of the most beautiful woman. I flipped her over and she smiled at me. I was done for. _

_I leaned over her; our mouths met with a desperate passion._

"_Eric, please!" she begged me, as I paused at what felt like the centre of my world, her centre. I slowly slid inside and she cried out as I stretched her once again._

_By gods she was beautiful!_

_Her temperature was rising, I could feel she was close; I had to hold off just a few moments more._

_Just a few moments..._

_Just a..._

HOLY FUCK! I woke with a start and a raging fucking hard on.

Oh dear gods no! No! Shit! Shitshitshit!

I got up and went to splash some cold water on my face, and my dick. Nope, still hard!

This was not happening! That fucking queer's beard was twitching my dick and fucking with my brain, and she'd been here for less than twelve hours. Shit!

I'd told myself that I'd taken my coat to Y Gafr's for my own use, it had nothing to do with the golden skinned imp who had danced across the muddy fields in nothing but a cotton dress and light cardigan and who was obviously going to freeze on her way back. The smug look on the queen's face when he knocked on my door and handed it back was beckoning my fist, fast and sharp. I simply took it though and closed the door in his face. I told myself that I was only checking the coat for the scent of that cretin of a barman, and the fact that I was also able to take in the fresh clean smell of Miss Sunshine was by the by.

Shit!

I dealt with the problem in hand, so to speak, cleaned myself up then tried to get back to sleep.

.-oOSOo-.

I fought with the land of sleep for a few minutes, convinced it was still too early to rise. The light outside was dingy, so it must have been early.

I reached for my borrowed cell which had found the perfect use as a travel alarm clock and squinted my eyes as I tried to see the time. 7:59…

Beebeebeebeep

Beebeebeebeep

_Fine! Okay! I'll get up!_ I thought.

I nudged aside the curtain and peaked outside. The weather was muggy and misty, just like the inside of my head; I wasn't sure what the ale was I'd been drinking the night before, but it certainly had got me just the other side of merry. I thanked my lucky stars that it was just my head that felt rough and not my stomach too. I rubbed my scalp, messing up my already impressive 'bed-head' look and yawned. Jet lag and hangover – not my favorite combination.

Throwing on a warm sweater over my mis-matched pajamas, and sliding my feet into my over-loved slippers, I dozily plodded towards the door and threw it open. I gasped with a shock at the sight of the creepy weasel of a man in front of me; coffee in hand and arm raised as though to knock. He was barely as tall as me, and looked younger. What lay behind his cold baby blue eyes suggested maturity that his smooth face denied.

I steeled myself and smiled as best I could that early in the morning. "How-de-do, I'm Sookie, nice to meet you". Oh Gran would be proud.

"Andre, is me. Lafayette asked if his oh was 'ungry for the breakfast." He said in a silken accent that made me shudder to the core. "Are you?" He paused and eye-fucked me, before reaching out and touching my arm. "Is oh I mean…"

His 'oh'? Oh God! His Ho!

"I don't know what you mean! I am a lady, and you will talk to me in a way befitting a lady." I huffed at him indignantly. This was turning out to be a more effective way to wake up than caffeine, but certainly not as pleasant.

I stomped passed him and down to the kitchen.

"How's my favorite sugar? Coffee's in the machine, French toast on the griddle, help yo' self"

"She'd be feeling better if Andre didn't think I was a prostitute." I replied, grabbing the perfectly cooked French toast with a fork and dropping it on a plate,

"Oh."

"Yes, oh."

"Oh Sook, honey, he known me well enough to know the way I talk. He know it don't mean a thing." Lafayette said apologetically waving a spatula around

"Well it must have slipped his mind." I huffed, the last of my frustrations ebbing away as I bit into the tastiest breakfast I'd ever had the pleasure of eating. "Oh my goodness Lafayette! This is amazing!" I stopped for a second and stared at him, taking in what I'd previously missed in my rage. "You're wearing a suit?"

"Give the girl a prize! It's Sunday Sook, we going to church. Six days of the week I dress for me, today I dress for the man! But without the apron, of course." He stepped back from the range to let me get a better glance and waved his spatula down his front in an unnecessarily flamboyant way. I tried hard to stifle a laugh as I took in the spotty duck-egg blue apron protecting his perfectly tailored shirt and pants. "Don't worry 'bout Andre, him and me, we'll have words. Now drink yo coffee, it been made the true way"

"Chicory?"

"Uh huh!"

"You're good!"

"Damn right I am!"

.-oOSOo-.

I hadn't been to church in a good long while back home. I often feel like I'm not a good Christian, but going to church more regularly probably won't change that. The little stone church building was full to the rafters, I was impressed at how devout the village community was. Reverend Jones welcomed everyone in a language I didn't understand and had to assume was Welsh; it sounded beautifully soft and playful, like the purr of a kitten when it's padding your sweater.

The rest of the service was in English. I was in awe of the welcome both Lafayette and I were given, because we received special mentions both in the service and in prayers. I'd never felt so undeserving; all I'd done was sit next to this guy for eleven hours in a tin can, let him desert me in the middle of London with a strange lesbian, then drive him for five hours to a crazy little village that seemed to worship him. Plus there was that thing with Andre this morning. _Okay, so maybe I did deserve those prayers_ I chuckled to myself.

After the service I gave Lafayette the keys to my rental car and told him I'd walk back. It was raining a little, but only enough to make the warm shower I'd have when I got back to the farm even more worth looking forward to.

.-oOLOo-.

In the rearview mirror I caught Compton the Goat trot up to my investment and put his hand on her shoulder. It seemed 'Barman Bill', as Sookie had labeled the fucker, was going to use this chance to walk her back. Well wasn't he just the gentleman!

Only minutes before, we been stood outside the church, the rainy mist trying its best to ruin my damn fine suit. "Don't choo wanna drive back? This weather nasty girl!" I told her as she put the keys in my hand with a soft smile.

"Oh no Lafayette, this is like being kissed by fairies, don't you feel it?"

I shook my head and smiled, she was something else. Even Jones the God had to mock the congregation in Welsh because they'd all turned up to see her.

Clutching my bag of raw goodies from Jones the Meat, I bent myself double (a very handy skill in the bedroom let me tell you) and fit my sexy ass into Sookie's rental car. I hoped there was no one around with a camera, there is somethings a bitch do not need posted around the internet.

I needed to regroup, to think this through; how the fuck was I gonna get Bill to crawl back into his little cave? Damn.

Reaching the farm I saw Andre in the yard, bent down to stroke the farm cats; he pasty white ass in the air. I didn't like them cats, they gave me the heeby-jeebies, you know what I saying? Sal called them some strange foreign names, but everyone just know them as "Big Bert" an "Bigger Bert". They was real big cats!

I threw myself out that car and launched myself at Andre, grabbing his scrawny neck and lifting him off the ground as I pushed him against the wall. "What choo say to Sookie? BITCH!" I demanded of his cold, calm, bitch-slap-able face. I paused. "Well? I's Waiting!"

He slowly rolled he eyes like the rude mother he is and fixed me wit' a creepy stare, an' it take a lot to creep me out, before he say "Oh you have the plans for her? I did not know. I will…" a smirk grew like mold on his nasty thin lips "… not upset the apple cart"

"I don't give a fuck about the apple cart bitch. Choo leave my Sookie alone!" I dropped him and walked into the barn.

Okay, one problem dealt with, I had another to go. I took out my cell, found the number and hit go.

"Hey hooker! Long time! How's choo?

"Yeah? Still married?

"Yeah? He know that?

"So I'll be seein' you soon then huh cher?

"You too! Bye now."

Done.

The man had had his fill of my dressing to please him, and a damp suit don't help no one in the kitchen, so I got myself all pretty, put on my favorite gloss, some eye shadow and liner, clipped on a pair of gold shell earrings and then made my way to the house so I could start whipping up a fine meal for the whole farm. It good to sit round a table all together, break bread, share food, make goo-goo eyes at someone…

I hadn't made steak and kidney pie since I was last in England, but it don't get no harder. I put my earbuds in and danced around the kitchen while I made my magic happen. Every few minutes I looked out the window to see if Sookie had found her way back; the walk from church to Fferm Llychlynwr wasn't far, but might have gotten longer if she was walking with Bill, if you know what I saying.

She finally appeared about an hour after I got back; they was walking separately, thank you sweet Jesus, but they was all with the flirting. Her eyes were looking down through them sweet lashes of hers, her lips kept twitching up at the corners when she weren't biting them, and she was blushing head to foot. I couldn't hear what they was saying but I could make a guess: "Oh Sookie you are fine!", "Oh Bill you are so nice." I wanted to throw up.

He leaned in to kiss her and I celebrated with a happy dance as she turned her head and his lips landed on her cheek. I laughed quietly to myself at the look on he face as she walked into the house. She was still as red as a hooker's lips, so I greeted her but asked no questions as she lightly passed by me; I didn't want to encourage her with Compton.

I turned back to my cooking and felt a presence near me. I turned to my left and nearly skewered my delicious self on my carving knife at the sight of the deep blue eyes and furrowed brow staring down at me.

"Jesus Christ Eric! Don't fucking sneak up on a bitch with a knife! Shit!" I ranted at him, as politely as possible though, this dude had something about him that demanded you respect.

"Did you see that?" He was calm, but anxious – now that a talent!

"The way the blood came out the kidney like a map o' Mexico? Or that?" I asked, pointing the tip of my knife at the window were Bill still stood, glaring right at Eric. Wanker!

"Why are you here?" He asked in that authoritative way of his, avoiding my question.

"Choo know WHY I's here."

"You shouldn't have brought her." His stare was starting to bore into my skull but I couldn't take my eyes off him.

"Well all you had to say was 'Hold the pussy'"

"You will NOT talk of her in that way. Do you understand me?"

His wrath became blindingly obvious and my survival instincts kicked in as I backed away from him.

"Yes'm" I maintained eye contact, lightly smirked and bowed sarcastically. "Masser Eric!"

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**A/N Okay! I'm working on Chapter 7, but I'm also working on the Dead Pan contest too...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - It feels like months since I last posted! Sorry!**

**If you are having difficulties reading/understanding the Lafayette PoV at the top, scroll to the bottom where there is a "translation"**

**Disclaimer - These are not my sheep, they belong to Ms Harris, I am just letting them graze a while.**

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Somethin' magical seems to happen when folk sit down to eat together. It's all about the breakin' of bread, or in this case; shepherd's pie, Yorkshire pudding, roast parsnips and potatoes and more beef gravy than you _eva_' did see. I might be a Louisianna boy in my heart and soul, but I _love_ me some British cookin'. The world might turn its nose up at simple food like this, but they is missin' out.

Sal likes her 'dinner parties'. They ain't nothin' fancy, just folks stayin' on the farm, but it let her play lady of the house and act and feel all regal. She usually invites the locals to be ruled over but they always find they washin' they hair that night or come down with some bug. Sal rubbed their feathers wrong when she first took over the farm and folks have some_ real_ long memories in Llandifiau. But this night, the world and he wife were hustlin' for an invite for sups! Not that I'm surprised.

I had high hopes for my lil' investment and she didn't disappoint, least not while we all ate. Southern manners were in that girl's blood and they shine through her skin like she made of glow-worms or somethin'. Sho 'nuff, even the backpackers staying wit' me in the barn were drawn to Sookie like white on rice. Each, tryin' to out-do theyselves with ideas on where she should visit. Charlie, who look like he spend too much time wishin' he were Captain Hook, all curly haired and tiny beard, preened like a cat when he gave the winning suggestion. Lake Vyrnwy was her first destination.

She even tried to be nice to that Andre: "So, Andy, have you and Sal owned the farm for long?"

"Is Andre," he sniffed, giving Sal a look. Bitch Puhleese! He was real particular about his name, and about being French; so was Sal, but she wanted folks to think she was makin' the effort to be one of them.

Sal forced Eric to join us. He seem to listen to her more than he listen to most, but he just sat through dinner with a scowl on that handsome face of his. Sookie didn't even try to talk to him. She jus' flinched whenever he talked to Sal in French or look at my sugar wit'dem beautiful blue eyes. The truth is, I know honeychile is hungry for more than some home cookin', but what can I do to help a bitch who won't help his self? He didn't utter one word in English the entire time. Rude ass shit.

**.-oOSOo-.**

I needed to get away after dinner. The guys staying on the farm were nice and all, but between Eric and Andre I had had just about enough of smiling through the pain. Skipping out and driving to the pub was the perfect relief. Bill's smile when I walked through the door made all my suffering over Lafayette's delicious food tolerable.

Earlier that day Bill had been a complete gentleman and walked me home in the rain. He was sweet and charming and he made me feel like a lady. We talked on the country side, why he'd bought the pub, and what his dreams were for the future. Yes, I could happily say I liked Bill. A lot. His accent was cute, and he had a way about him that made me feel like spending more time in Llandifiau, even if I had to tolerate Andre and Eric.

After our brief, but lovely chat that evening I decided that if, in a day or two, things hadn't improved on the farm, I would be brazen, and try to get Bill to invite me to stay with him. I wasn't sure Gran would approve, but I was a grown woman, and what Gran didn't know…

I climbed into bed that night with a light head, not from any alcohol, but from the delightful charms of Mr. Compton.I slept fitfully, with dreams of fine and muscular arms holding me, pulling me against a firm strong chest.

_Soft hair sweeping across my cheek, a face nuzzling my neck, breathing me in. His presence alone warming me in places that made me bashful and flustered. I wanted to show him how I was feeling, what he was doing to me, how I wanted him… but something was in my way. What was it? What was stopping me? I dug my fingers into his broad shoulders, scared that if he let go I would fall away, and tried to kiss him, but our lips did not meet. _

I woke not long after dawn with dried tears down my cheeks and my hand tucked into the elastic of my pajama pants, feeling annoyed and frustrated in one tight angry package.

Monday morning brought a bright and shiny day, and who was I to be frustrated when the sun was beaming on me? One of the backpackers staying on the farm, Charlie I think, but it could have been Bazza, had suggested I took a trip to Lake Vyrnwy, so with map in hand, and plenty of supplies (thanks to my darling Lafayette) I hopped in my rental and set off on the shortest route. Maybe it was just the small car I was driving, or maybe it was the bad mood I was trying to squash, but the landscape had an oddly close feeling to it, despite its sprawling openness.

I only have one word to describe Lake Vyrnwy: " WOW!" Really, just that, WOW!

My camera came out the moment I parked up and I just had to capture everything in pixels to send home to Gran. She and I loved to read romance novels, and this place was just making my imagination burst with thoughts of fair maidens and valiant knights. There was even a Rapunzel tower off one of the banks.

I splashed out (ha, ha) on a hire boat; I'd always wanted to go fishing in a boat on a lake with a grandfather figure, just like you see in the films, but Gramps died before my parents, and they died when I was pretty young, so it never happened. They made sure I knew the basics ("this is an oar, this is a rowlock, pull this way to go here, pull that way to go there…") and when I was secure in the little boat, the guy (who reminded me of a mix between a country hick and a surfer dude) pushed me off from the pebbled shore, and I floated into the middle of the lake. The current, caused by the open dam, was pulling me slowly towards the bridge, so I put a in little effort and gently rowed myself 'upstream', then I just sat back and lazily drifted.

My guide book said the tower was a water monitoring station, or something, but it looked all too fancy and wistful for something as dull as that. I tucked into my packed lunch that Lafayette had left in the fridge for me (he's such a sweetheart) with the oars pulled into the boat and my knees tucked under my chin. I gazed at the tower, day dreaming about being a princess trapped up high, with my Barman Bill calling to me from the drawbridge, begging access. I smiled to myself, maybe tonight I might let him in.

With my camera almost full, my heart a-flutter with anticipation and my thirst for beautiful romantic countryside sated (for the day anyway) I headed back to the farm and to the night at Y Gafr's that awaited me. I'd never set out to seduce anyone before, although I'd watched my brother do it many times, and I wasn't sure how well received my advances might be. At least I was safe in the knowledge that if I embarrassed myself in front of the whole village I could climb into my rental the next day and never see any of them again. I took comfort in that thought.

The clouds started to blow over as I got closer to Llandifiau, but thankfully my high spirits weren't hidden along with the sunshine. Sitting in the boat that afternoon had given me a chance to do a little sun-worshipping, which I didn't think I'd be able to do so far away from home. Adding to my tan always made me more relaxed and confident. Slowing down to drive around the hairpin bends I could hear quite a commotion. Blocked from my view by one of the tall hedges, there must have been a huge gathering of sheep, and they sounded real frightened.

I pulled my car up against a fence, tucked away from the road in case another car, or even worse a tractor should come by, and took myself off to see what was causing all the fuss as the threatening clouds started to release a fine mist of rain.

The temperature was starting to drop as I made my way over to the fretting pile of woolly creatures in the next field across. I was grateful that I had thought to pack a fleece as well as sweater for the day, but I was wishing I had a waterproof jacket too. Reaching the gate I lifted myself up onto it and peered into the field. There, just a few yards away, was a sheep, stuck in a patch of mud with its fellow flock members crowded round to see what was wrong.

The stuck sheep, I called her Shaun, was clearly terrified; her four feet firmly fixed in the squelching soft brown earth. I climbed over the gate in a most unladylike fashion, and began to waddle as best as I could over to her, my movements hampered by the same gunk Shaun was stuck in.

"Shhh, it's okay Shaun, I'll get you out," I said to her in an attempt to sooth her, my own nervousness must have been apparent in my voice because though because her bleating got louder. My feet were starting to stick, pulling them out was becoming real hard work, but I managed to reach her and stroked her head to try to calm her, and myself. The rest of the flock must have decided that Shaun was now safe in my hands or they were scared of me, I wasn't sure which, because they dispersed and turned their attention to the grass.

"Okay Shaun, it's like this," I said, steeling myself for not only trying to get the sheep out of this sticky situation, but now myself, because the mud was like glue. "I'll push you from behind, and you try to walk forward. How does that sound?"

I was talking to a sheep I was trying to rescue, in the cold wet weather of Wales. What a vacation!

"Right, on the count of three!" I put my hands on Sean's behind and was about to push when… SPLAT! Sean lightly jumped forward, out of the mud and into the field, l leaving me face down in her wake.

I tried to get to my feet, my hands, face, clothes all now covered in mud, but I was fairly stuck. I sat on my knees, looked up at the sky and said a little mental thank you to the fates who were clearly laughing at me. How, I wondered, could this get any worse?

"Are you beyond stupid?" boomed a deep voice, I turned round and saw Eric resting his weight on the gate. "No, don't answer!"

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**A/N **

**Lake Vyrnwy - please google it and look at the pictures, it really is a fantastically pretty place. The birds around there are very tame due to the tourists feeding them crumbs of ice-cream cones and other tit bits. The hotel that overlooks the lake has had mixed reviews from people I know, I have never been there though.**

**Stuck sheep - I have witnessed almost exactly this situation, although the sheep in question was in a canal, not a muddy field. The other sheep crowding round were preventing it escaping its terrible fate. We tried very hard to help the poor thing, but nothing worked. Until I scared all the other sheep away and the creature easily hopped out the canal and onto the bank. *sigh***

**Shaun - a nod to Wallace & Gromit's "A Close Shave" that Sookie mentioned she'd seen back in Chapter 4.**

**Lafayette - I've had a comment that Lafayette's getting harder to understand. SORRY! I'm trying to make him as 'real' as possible, and that means writing in his dialect. Since that makes him hard to understand - here's a translation into "real" English:**

There is something magical when you sit down and eat together as a family. It's all about the breaking of bread, or in this case; shepherd's pie, Yorkshire pudding, roast parsnips and potatoes and more beef gravy than you have ever seen. I might be a Louisianna boy in my heart and soul, but I traditional British cooking. The world might turn its nose up at simple food like this, but they are missing out.

Sal likes to host 'dinner parties'. They are nothing fancy, just a few folks staying on the farm, but it let her play lady of the house and act and feel all regal. She usually invites the locals to be ruled over but they always find they have to wash their hair that night or have fallen ill with some bug. Sal annoyed them when she first took over the farm and folks have somevery long memories in Llandifiau. But this night, the entire village was begging for an invite for dinner! Not that I'm surprised.

I had high hopes for my little investment and she didn't disappoint me, at least not while we all ate. Southern manners were in that girl's blood and they shine through her skin like she's made of glow-worms or something. Sure enough, even the backpackers staying with me in the barn were drawn to Sookie like moths to a flame. Each, tryinh to out-do themselves with ideas on where she should visit. Charlie, who look like he spend too much time wishing he was a pirate, all curly haired and tiny beard, preened like a cat when he gave the winning suggestion. Lake Vyrnwy was her first destination.

She even tried to be nice to that Andre: "So, Andy, have you and Sal owned the farm for long?"

"Is Andre," he sniffed, giving Sal a look. _Bitch Please_! He was real particular about his name, and about being French; so was Sal, but she wanted folks to think she was making the effort to be one of them.

Sal forced Eric to join us. He seem to listen to her more than he listen to most, but he just sat through dinner with a scowl on that handsome face of his. Sookie didn't even try to talk to him. She just flinched whenever he talked to Sal in French or look at my sugar with those beautiful blue eyes. The truth is, I know he wants more, but what can I do to help a bitch who won't help his self? He didn't utter one word in English the entire time. Rude ass shit.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - Thanks to Northman Maille for correcting the mistakes she spotted!**

**Disclaimer - These are not my sheep, I'm just putting them out to pasture while Charlaine Harris is busy.**

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Chapter 8

The bleating was incessant and so loud I could hear it, with the aid of a light westerly breeze, nearly five fields over. My chores were mostly complete, nothing left undone that couldn't wait until the following day, so calling Sam to heel we went to have a look at what was causing the commotion.

I like sheep, they're stupid, and you know you can trust a stupid creature to be stupid. It makes for a simple, easy life. Sometimes their stupidity can rile me a little, but it's all about control; i.e. making sure you have it.

She was making her way across the first field when I spotted her, snuggling her fleece around her ripe curves in an attempt to keep the drizzle out. Was she nosy? Or concerned? She was a tourist, she would be nosy, wanting to laugh at the idiot animals and how 'cute' it was that they were distressed and panicked. Humans can be so cruel, enjoying the fear of other creatures for their own pleasure. And you were thinking it odd that I like sheep! Oh come now, everyone thinks it's odd, you wouldn't be the first.

Sure enough she hoisted herself up onto the gate and gawped at the sight before her. _Okay, you've had a good look, now get gone!_ flashed through my mind.

Instead of jumping off the gate and heading back the way she came, she pulled herself awkwardly up and over, and to my horror, started to make her way towards the flock. While I wouldn't put it passed anyone to rubber-neck, she certainly didn't seem the type who concern the RSPCA, which would mean she was going to go one better – she was going to "help". This I had to see!

I hurried over to the gate and rested my arms on top, watching, admiring, smirking.

Now, sheep are pretty nimble creatures, and a little mud doesn't normally bother them, so goodness knows what they'd been shouting about. After making her way over to one of the sheep, getting somewhat more slow and laboured with every step, she started to talk to the damn thing, even named it. I've never named an animal, other than Sam, turns them into pets and makes it harder to send them to market. That said, Sal's named a few of them on the farm, including her prize cow, Arlene.

Sam and I stood at the gate, watching and waiting. One of the flock noticed Sam and started to move away. Once one goes they all go, and a path was cleared for the lone sheep in the mud. Melpomene and Thalia smiled on the scene and sure enough our little Southern Belle found herself face first in mud and sheep droppings.

I wanted to roar with laughter, the pain in my belly from holding it in was intense.

"Are you beyond stupid?" I shouted, instantly giving myself a strong mental kick from the sheer rudeness of my question. "No! Don't answer that.

"You've come all this way to bother sheep?" I smirked at her; the look of confusion on her pretty, tanned face was starting to do something pretty unwholesome to me. "The Welsh are famed for it you know. You should have asked one of the locals for pointers. I understand oversized wellies help"

She sighed, wiped her hands on her jeans and glared at me. "I have no idea what you're on about. You could come over to help me you know."

I wandered over to the hedgerow by the roadside where I remembered having seen some dead pallets a couple of days back. Fly tippers are the bane of the countryside; throwing your unwanted and unloved items over a hedge does not make them vanish, and if I catch you, so help me I'll damage you! On this occasion however it seemed that one man's trash was this man's treasure.

I lugged them back over to the fence, smashed them up as best I could with a few well placed stamps, and began laying a stepping-stone path over to the scared and skittish creature trapped before me.

"Sheep bothering," I continued, "the bothering of sheep. I've heard that if you lift the sheep up and put their hind legs down the front of your boots, they can't get away." The corner of my mouth twitched upwards, and I could practically feel the twinkle in my eye as realisation of what I was saying hit her face with shade of horror and disgust. I dropped some more wood and tested its positioning.

"You're sick!"

I chuckled "I said I'd _heard,_ not that I'd practiced the act. I like my lovers to be bipedal, and willing. Women's feet don't fit down the front of my boots, and I've never met one who wanted to get away from me, so why would I bother? Like right now, all you can say is _come to me_, these are words I'm sure you'll say often." I winked, she blushed. I wasn't sure if she was furious or lustful, possibly both, but winding her up was giving me such a rush, she truly was beautiful when she was flushed. I couldn't help but wonder if making her blush in other ways would be just as rewarding.

A few more pieces of pallet and I was by her side; almost instantly I was lost in the vortex of her fierce, blue eyes.

"I think the sentence included the words 'over' and 'help'... you do know what they mean don't you?"

One side of my mouth lifted in a very wry smile. I had not flirted so dangerously for years, and I found myself enjoying it immensely. "Oh I might, but they weren't the words I was listening to." I winked.

.oOSOo.

If Eric hadn't been standing there I'm sure I would have been laughing like a loon by now; it would have been stored as a "Crazy Sookie" moment to write home to Gran about. But he was here, and I felt like a real fool. For want of a better word, I felt sheepish.

He was bearing down on me; his smug and annoyingly stunning blue eyes laughing at me and my stupidity. And now I had no choice but to be the damsel in distress. Why couldn't it have been Bill that came wandering past?

Here I was, stuck with Eric.

He grabbed me roughly under my arms and as he lifted me, I unfolded like a concertina.

"There!" he said, as though this was the solution to all my problems. He turned and walked back over the little wooden path he'd made. I just stood there. "You hoping the sheep'll come back? Are you _that_ intent on playing with them?"

I couldn't move. My rage alone was probably enough to root me to the spot, but this was a force of nature: my feet were just plain stuck.

My shoulders sank and I let out a small sigh. Why couldn't this just all be over? I'd had such a lovely day; despite being on my own it had felt so romantic, so whimsical. I'd been floating on a happy little cloud, and now my feet were back on ground that was somewhat less than solid, and I was getting lower by the second. "I seem to be sinking."

His smirk widened. I'm not a violent person, but he was pushing my buttons, and I think Jase might have been proud of me if I'd been able to come home with the story of "how I sucker punched this real jerk".

"Well I guess you'll have to take them off then." He raised a loan eyebrow in the way I remember one of the James Bond's did in the old films. The comparison did nothing to ingratiate (word of the day, June 13th) him to me. I was probably staring at him blankly in an attempt to wish myself away from this situation, because he pointed at my feet and said, "your boots... they need to come off."

I've always been pretty flexible, and bending double to touch my toes has never been a problem before, but there must be something about the way hiking boots support your ankles, and maybe the angle my feet were at, because as I tried to fold myself in two, so I started to topple forward.

"Woah there! I got you!" His hands gripped my hips in a way that was truly not befitting a gentleman! Since I didn't want my hair covered in mud too, and it _was _only his hands touching me, which from that angle was a miracle, I figured I could forgive him, for now. While he kept me stable I pulled myself back up and tried not to look as helpless as I felt. Again I was at the complete mercy of a blond stranger; this was becoming something of a habit – first Pam, now Eric.

I tried very hard to remember my manners, as I was sure Gran would have been ashamed at me if she realised how annoyed I was with my rescuer. The frustration and irritation I had were all for me, I had got myself here, I had tried to help a sheep who didn't need my help, I had eaten too much so my fat ass was sinking in the mud. It was all me! Me, me, me!

Whether Eric knew what was going through my head I don't know, but his smugly satisfied grin eased and his eyes seemed to soften as he knelt on the wood beside me and started to undo my laces. He said nothing as he eased the tongues of the boots open so that my feet could move. His face was full of kindness and concern as he lightly, but firmly, gripped my ankles and forced me to stand on tip-toes with my heels resting on the back of the boots.

Then he took my breath away.

He took me completely by surprise as he pushed behind my knees with his forearm, knocking me backwards. In that split second I thought it had all been one big joke; that he had been setting me up for a fall. I flung my arms up instinctively, expecting to land flat on my ass, to yet again be covered in mud. Thankfully his other arm found my back and luckily my arms _didn't_ find his chin... and then my head found his chest.

I was still annoyed, I was still fuming actually. I was. No really I was. It's just that his arms were so comforting, so protective, and he smelled so...

I was annoyed, that's what I was! Fuming!

My arms were around his neck as he lifted himself to his feet; not that I was worried I would fall, but it seemed like the right place for them to go. Eric's eyes met mine; for a moment I felt like I'd been here before - in his arms.

He carried me across two fields, sitting me on the fence between each one and nimbly hopping over. Sam just slinked between the rungs and bounded off. We reached a Land Rover which I assumed was the farm's, and he nimbly opened the door while still holding me in both hands. As he leant down our faces got closer, our eyes were locked, I could feel his warm breath against my cheek. A small smile was forming on my lips, and in that second Bill was forgotten; my eyes closed.

But my lips felt nothing.

The door opened and I was sure I heard a slight laugh in the back of his throat.

How dare he? The movements had come so easy to him he must have done it 100 times. That made me mad. How many other girls had he "rescued"? How many had he carried back to his car and conned them into kissing him?

Sam hopped up into the cab. I climbed into the passenger seat, crossed my arms across my chest, and made it very clear that the moment we reached the farm house I wanted a pair of boots or shoes that I could wear to step out of the Land Rover and into the kitchen on my own. I was not going to be carried by Eric ever again.

.oOEOo.

I stood in the kitchen, alone. I was in no mood for Y Gafr's.

I took the phone from the table and searched through his list of contacts to find her name.

I hit call, and after three rings she picked up.

"So? Are you in the money yet?"

"That is charming. And no, he isn't," I replied, half amused, half irritated.

"Ah." In fairness to him, Lafayette is not normally one to leave his phone lying around, so she had no way of knowing _I_ would call her. "So I assume this is work related? Which one do you want to know about first?"

I chuckled, I would resist temptation. "You know the rules, a year off, those were Ludwig's orders. And I'm not impressed you let him come here, considering... But that's not why I'm calling. I need a pair of walking boots, size 4, good quality, but not top of the range, I think she might take umbrage if they cost too much."

"She... oh... so he's nearly in the money..." She cackled gleefully. "Well who'd have thought it? Good for him. I'll have to up my wager; Clancy is so sure he'd fail."

I was not going to be pulled into this, I was not in the mood for their game of will he/won't he. "Make it your priority, and have them couriered over, same day delivery. I want them here by 6pm tomorrow." I instructed her in a no-nonsense tone; I was used to giving orders, and she was used to taking them. "Oh and Pam..."

"Yes Mr Northman?"

I smiled. We both knew our position in each other's lives; a symbiotic relationship where my life would fall apart without her, and hers would be unbearably dull without my buttons to push. I was tempted to ask her how she had been coping for the last 6 months, but I was sure she had probably found some little creature to take her frustrations out on.

"No pink."

I ended the call, returned the phone to the table, and turned in for the night.

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**A/N - Melpomene and Thalia** -** Not the Thalia you might be thinking of! Melpomene and Thalia are the Greek muses of Comedy and Tragedy. **

**Please take some time to read the stories written for the Dead Pan Contest: http:/ www .fanfiction .net /u/ 2231715/ I had great fun writing my entry/entries and I hope you enjoy reading everyone else's.**

**So! I'm going to try and get the next chapter out as fast as possible, but I have promised to write a chapter for Greenlemons' "Dont' judge a lady by her lovers" fic, so we'll have to see what flows out of my fingers tips first. But I will try VERY hard not to leave it so long in the future.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Thank you so much everyone who's read this so far, and stuck with me through the drought while I Dead-panned. Additional thanks for the amazing reviews, particularly from some new readers (you know who you are!) and I'm flawed to realise that I'm now listed on a couple of communities! I cannot begin to express how amazing you are as readers. **

**Many thanks to Northman Maille for being a better beta than I - she's beta'd this whilst suffering a stomach bug! I am seriously not worthy of that level of devotion!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these sheep, they belong to Charlaine Harris, I'm merely putting them out to pasture.**

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The Souvenir

Chapter 9

I had walked into the farm house, covered in mud, wearing Sal's boots and with my head held high.

"What happened to you girl?" Lafayette had asked me with a mixture of horror and hilarity.

I had intended to be snappish, but the instant I looked at him I creased with laughter, and the rest of the night was spent regaling my ordeal to the whole of the village. My triumphant moment came when I told Bill. The look on his face when I explained Eric's heroic part in my tale was enough to give me very happy dreams for the rest of the night, but when he followed it with hints that I might want to stop over with him, my heels lifted off the ground and pushed my lips to his.

I was floating.

But I didn't stay.

There would always be the next day. I had already agreed be up early to head off to Chester with Laf, and I'm not one to go back on a promise. I was too happy to let Eric and Andre bother me.

And so at what felt like the crack of dawn, Lafayette squeezed himself into my rental and we headed off to North England.

I let Laf take control of the music again, and we bopped along to an eclectic (word of the day January 2nd) mix. He had me giggling like crazy when Katy Perry came on with "I kissed a girl", because he kept changing the lyrics to fit him, and winking at me every time he sang "I kissed a boy". I think he was mostly playing this music for me, not that I minded, but to look at him you just wouldn't ever guess Katy Perry would feature on his list of "must play" music.

Chester was one of the places on my "want to visit" list. I had read about it in my guide books and it really is a beautiful place. It has so much to see.

We started by getting coffee and muffins from a chain I recognized from London, or rather I bought breakfast while Laf disappeared for a few minutes. The price made me choke a bit, but Lafayette assured me it was usual. This was my fourth day in the U.K. and I still couldn't get used to how expensive it was. I tried not to convert the cost back into dollars, and just see the price as a number, but I had a worry in the back of my head that I'd quickly run out of money if I did that.

The air was cool, but the sun was glorious as I handed Lafayette his coffee and he ushered me towards some steps, hidden in a corner between two shops. Just as with Lake Vyrnwy the day before, there was something quite magical about this place; little nooks and crannies that made me wonder if I would disappear into a mystical world full of fairies and werewolves and vampires, if only I had the courage to look a little further. But instead we climbed onto the wall that surrounded the city and found a bench in the sun to sit down on while we munched our breakfasts; I basked in the rays, trying to top up my face's fading summer glow.

"So girl! Tell me what _really_ happened between you and the hunk? I just _know_ you ain't tellin all!" he asked me with no warning at all.

I blushed a little. "He asked me to stop over last night," I replied. The color in my cheeks matched the deep red paper take-out cup in my hands.

Lafayette nearly choked on his coffee. "Damn! Still hot." He put his coffee to the side and reapplied his lip gloss, not that it needed topping up; I made a mental note to ask him what his secret was, I could never get gloss to stay on the way he could.

A little recomposing, and Laf was back on form. "So sugar, you tellin' me the frozen popsicle of blond lovin' melted in yo' little warm hands and he's beggin' fo' more?"

"Eww! No! Not Eric! YUCK!" My toasty flush fled from my cheeks as the icy-water of realization hit my sleepy and un-caffeinated brain. "No… Bill, last night, at Y Gafr. God Lafayette, Eric's horrible." As the words left my lips I knew I didn't quiet mean them. He wasn't "horrible"; he had some charms, although they were nearly all physical ones.

Lafayette pursed his lips and made a very unimpressed "Hmmmn" noise. "Girl, let me give you a clue. Bill's pub ain't called Y Gafr's fo shits an' giggles. When he bought that place it was Y Llychlynnwr, but the locals, they changed it."

I looked at him blankly. If this was his idea of a clue, it was more cryptic than an English crossword puzzle – I made the mistake of trying to solve one in one of Pam's big newspapers, Ouch!

"Gafr, it mean' Goat."

I was sort of getting his meaning; I wasn't the first pretty face to have turned Bill's head, well that's no surprise really. "So what does the other word mean? Lee… Leech… Leeklinur?"

Lafayette spat his coffee out, staining the footpath, and some of the wall itself. He laughed, loud and hearty. "It don't mean goat." He winked. That was all I was getting. "Sook, you a sweet girl, an' if Bill makes yo' pussy purr…"

My eyes went wide with shock "Lafayette!"

He laughed at me again. "Don't let him ruin yo' vacation is all I sayin'."

I gave Laf my "don't worry about me" smile, and focused on the milky froth of my cappuccino. If I was honest with myself I had let Bill go to my head, and I wasn't that sort of girl. I wondered if Gran would be as ashamed of me as I currently was of myself. Not that I really had anything to be ashamed of, what had I done other than enjoy giggles and smiles and a little kiss? But he really was so charming. I put him to the back of my mind and decided to think about him after I'd enjoyed my day, which contained plenty of things to look forward to.

As we walked the wall I was real pleased to be able to see the Town Crier all dressed up in his bright red coat and tricorn hat. He walked out on to a bridge that spanned the shops and rang his hand bell. I tried to imagine a time when cell phones and the internet didn't exist, before television and telephones, and even before the newspaper was available to all, but I just couldn't. To think of what life would have been like when you relied on a man, ringing a bell, to bring you the news was just so alien. I was as happy as a clam when I managed to get my photo taken with him. Lafayette laughed at me and called me a "typical tourist" but I didn't care that I was. This was my vacation, and I didn't want my memories to disappear on my return home.

The buildings in Chester just fascinated me. I tried to remember little bits and pieces that Pam had told me in London about building designs and shapes and how to tell how old they were from windows etc. but I have to be honest and say it had mostly gone over my head. I could tell that most of the buildings in Chester were old though, like real old, and a total mix – some from a long time ago, and others from a very, very, VERY long time ago. Chester reminded me of my Gran's farm house, a real hodgepodge of designs and ages, all of them special and meaningful in their own right, but none of them quite matching. I loved it.

We ate the lunch that Lafayette had packed for us while sat on what was, according to a near-by sign, the remains of an amphitheatre. Just to push the message home there were a few people around dressed as Roman soldiers, advertising the local museum. I was just finishing up a piece of cold steak and kidney pie when my favorite queen started to hurry me up.

"You an' me sister! We have a date! How'd you like to get yo' feet did?" he purred at me, as he packed up the last of our lunch and helped me to my feat. "While you was gettin' coffee, I was getting us a little time to make us beautiful! Well, make you beautiful. Me? I don't need no work doin' to my fine ass."

My feet were tired; we'd walked a lot that morning, and my head was buzzing with snippets of history Lafayette had been feeding me. The idea of having them soaked, scrubbed, moisturized, then painted just sounded like heaven!

.oOLOo.

We was relaxin in them big ass leather chairs before you could say "DAMN you fine, Lafayette!", feet worn out from acting like damn tourists. Sure the girl needs her vacation time, but we have important matters to discuss!

"Now, girlfriend, you dizzy if you think I is believin' you got to lookin like you been 10 rounds with Rhona the mud wrestler yesterday, jus' cos you try to save a sheep! What did you and big blonde get up to? Mmmmn?"

"Really Lafayette, it's the truth! I tried to save a sheep stuck in the mud, it moved, I slipped, Eric found me and took me back to the farm. He was rude, he was arrogant, and he was really annoying. What else do you want to know?" The way she sassed told me she not sharing the whole story; I knew she were leavin' out a little tasty somethin'-somethin'.

"Did he kiss you?"

"No! No." Now the first no was shock at my question, but the second one was somethin' else and it stank of disappointment.

My cell chirped with a text: "Be there tonight around 8.30ish. L"

I smiled. This weren't no time to push my little asset, she'd come round soon enough.

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**A/N - A little word on Chester**

**Chester is one of my favourite English cities, particularly for the architecture; I can sit and gawp at it all day. Please do wiki Chester and the History of Chester if you are interested - I didn't want to bore those of you who aren't with details in the story, but Wikipedia has a very good couple of sections on it. My husband grew up near by, and his parents still leave locally, so I am fortunate enough to be able to go shopping there with my Mother in law regularly.**

**Amongst my favourite parts of Chester are "The Rows" - which are unique in the UK - two levels of shops on the high street, where you have to walk along a wooden 'pavement' above the first set of shops. Now we are familiar this sort of thing inside multi-story mall, but these buildings pre-date modern shopping as we know it by a VERY long stretch.**

**I'm also very fond of the little story that exists in Chester about the four sided clock tower only having three faces - the west facing clock is missing, and it is said that it is missing because the people of Chester refuse to give the people of Wales the time of day. (Being half Welsh I find this funny... sorry to anyone who doesn't). Despite this little xenophobic idea, Chester actually has a lot of signs and ATM's dual language English/Welsh, and is only of the only (or possibly THE only, I'm not sure) place in England that does. However I believe it is still legal to shoot a Welshman from the walls of Chester with a bow and arrow - if it isn't then the law was repealed, but not all that long ago.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N - Sorry this has taken so long to come out - I wrote it quite a while back but I just wasn't happy with it. Thanks go to my lovely beta Northman Maille for checking this for spelling and grammar, and another thanks to my beta/bean-feeder Jan-of-arc who checked this for rubbish-ness and convinced me it was actually okay.**

**Disclaimer - These aren't my sheep, they belong to Charlaine Harris, I'm just putting them out to pasture.**

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**The Souvenir - Chapter 10**

Lafayette and I sat on the day spa's leather couch, wiggling our drying toe nails around and giggling about nothing for a half hour before we risked putting our shoes back on. On the way back to the parking lot we passed by the guys dressed up as Roman soldiers again. We were in that dizzy sort of mood that makes you willing to ask strangers almost anything, as the photos on my camera later proved; Lafayette did look awful happy at the way the one soldier was bent over in one picture.

The trip back to the farm was faster than the journey in the morning, but that's always the way isn't it? Lafayette was busy humming away to whatever was playing on the stereo, no matter how terrible it was; I was beginning to think he had no taste in music at all, either that or he had that wonderful gift of being able to ignore how much the song irritated him and just lose himself in it. If I hadn't had more interesting things to think about I might have asked him to play something else, but Laf's comments earlier about Bill were still playing on my mind, and this was giving me the perfect chance to mull them over.

It takes me a long time to trust men; there are things in my past that I don't like to talk about, but they've caused me to be cautious. This alone made me question why I was so tempted to take Bill up on his offer to spend more time with him after closing when I had known him for only a few days. I listed the nice things he'd done for me in my head: he smiled at me, he made me feel special, he walked me home. The list was short, but, I reasoned, so was the time I had known him. I wondered whether it was just because he was an attractive man who was clearly interested in me, I had been "stoking the home fires" now for some timeso the touch of another human being would not be unwelcomed. But I was not normally that sort of girl.

I played these thoughts around and around my head for the hour and a bit that it took us to reach Fferm Llychlynwr and I was still no closer to working out what it was about Bill that made me feel so drawn to him, which then made me question how drawn to him I genuinely felt; was it my heart, or the "home fires", that were shouting the loudest? If I was honest with myself, I don't think it was the heart. But if you go into something knowing it's just physical it's okay, right?

We pulled up at the farm and Lafayette bounded out into the kitchen to see what exciting delights Jones the Meat had dropped in with earlier that day. Have you ever seen a huge gay black man "bound"? It's a sight to behold. While he generally seemed to have an attitude about him, one of snapping fingers and "wha' choo lookin' at ho?", the prospect of good fresh food had him wound tight like a spring, and the excited child emerged without warning. There was a cry of "Oh Momma!" when he looked in the fridge, which made me smile as I made my way to my room; my feet glowing from a combination of tiredness and pampering.

I was about to toss my bag onto the bed then head to the bathroom for nature's call, when a sight made me stop mid swing.

There, in the middle of the bed, was a pair of brand new sneaker-style, brown and burgundy hiking boots. A note sat beside them.

"Dear Sookie, after your reaction to our conversation I felt buying you wide-top wellies might not be so welcomed, so I am replacing your boots in kind. E x"

I held them up, closely examining them from every angle, feeling the weight, flexing the sole. These were not just a "replacement in kind", from the little I knew of hiking boots; these were almost top of the range! My old boots were cheap and all I could afford; these were beautiful, and in my size.

I sat on the bed turning one of the boots over in my hands. He must have gone back to the field, found my boots, and then made a special trip to find me some new ones. I wasn't sure if I was touched by the thought and generosity, or if I more than a little freaked out that he would have gone to so much trouble. From what Lafayette had said, Eric was a volunteer, so he received very little payment from Sal and Andy, if any, so to have spent so much money on me was just beyond generous.

I was floored.

A cheery and perfectly made-up black face appeared around the edge of the door. "Choo wantin' eats honey pie?" His eyes caught the boot. "And jus' when did you go solo today and shop?"

"I think they're from Eric," I responded, never once taking my eye off the boot.

Lafayette pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at me. "Girl! You got a straight man buyin' you shoes? They ugly though, seem he only have taste in women"

I chuckled and dropped the boot back on the bed. "Food would be swell. Are we going to Y Gafr's tonight?"

"Sure thing." And with that he left.

After finally getting to the bathroom to freshen up, I had a dig around in my luggage to find one of my favorite dresses. It was white, with small red flowers, it showed off my cleavage perfectly, and the skirt filled out over my hips, giving a fantastic silhouette, but it didn't scream "I'm a slut, come and get it!", so I could plausibly deny I was wearing it to attract any one person's attention. I applied the only two pieces of make-up I had with me – lip gloss and mascara – and headed down to the amazing smells Lafayette was concocting in the kitchen.

It would never have occurred to me to serve pork, sea weed, shellfish and cheese on toast for dinner, but apparently it was a "Welsh Fusion" dish, called something very strange that mentioned rabbit, although Laf assured me there was no rabbit in it, and it was supremely tasty.

I wore my new boots over to Y Gafr, not to show them off you understand, they looked real funny with my dress and pantyhose, but they needed breaking in, and the fields were still muddy. The locals welcomed us with the same cheer as they had done on our previous visits, drinks were waiting for us, and within seconds it was as though we'd been living there all our lives. Bill's eyes twinkled as he smiled at me when I caught his eye, and I smiled back, but my eyes failed to sparkle.

Lafayette insisted on telling everyone about my boots, repeating yesterday's story, but with his own flair and twist, then letting everyone know how everyone's least favorite farmer had selflessly gone out of his way to buy me the best pair of boots he could. I had to hand it to him; Lafayette was one hell of a salesman. He was managing to convince everyone, including myself, that Eric was not the miserable jack-ass we all knew him to be. There were calls for me to show off my new footwear, which I did, lifting my leg in a very unladylike fashion, but being very careful to cover my modesty with my skirt. Several of the locals made singsong noises saying "There's lovely, ennet!" – I hoped they were referring to the gesture and the boots, and not the new ungainly angle of my legs.

I was giggling at some nothing comment Morgan the Car had made when I went up to order the next round of drinks, and my jovial mood was dampened a little when I came face to face with Bill. He seemed a little sour with me, but his expression changed to bright smiles, as though someone had flicked a switch on his back, the moment we started talking. He had a charming ease about him that was hard to resist; his words trickled through over my ear and down my neck, tickling my senses and giving me goosebumps. It was like being drizzled with warm liquid honey – delicious and sensual while it was happening, but afterwards I found myself in need of a shower, and not a cold one.

Returning to the table I continued to play the eye equivalent of 'footsie' with Bill, exchanging coy smiles from time to time. I figured I'd be moving on soon, I wanted to see more of England than I could reach in a day from the farm, so what would be wrong with a brief holiday romance? It's not as if he was going to follow me like a little lost puppy dog.

I had finally made up my mind to throw caution to the wind, do one of the things I would never dare do back home, and experience what my brother's been doing for years, when the door to the pub slammed open, and a tiny woman stood before us, with a presence so great she instantly took over the whole room.

Everyone stopped.

There was no talking, no drinking, no shuffling of chairs.

It was as if the very sight of her had turned every customer in the bar to stone.

"Billy Boy!" she crooned in an accent I couldn't place. "Missed me?"

.oOEOo.

The boots were appropriate. Functional, a good name, her size, and a practical color; I couldn't have asked Pam to do better. How she picks up on details such as a person's shoe size in just one meeting I will never know, and I possibly rely on her a little too much. I seem to be able to satisfy her constant need for amusement however, and I know she valued that almost as much as her pay check; if she valued it more I'd take the opportunity to pay her less, but the Pam's of this world are a rare breed and I can't afford to lose her.

Sookie's trusting nature meant that she had left her door unlocked and that had made my life so much easier, I made a mental note to tease her about it later. Sal would have given me the key if I had required it, but I was relieved not have to make her aware of my actions.

I was shifting feed in the barn when Sal strutted in waving her cell at me.

"Lafayette a exigé que vous allez à l'Y Gafr." She chirped at me in a tone that was filled with "ask me why!"

I grunted as a lifted another sack onto my back and walked away.

She was still stood there, hand on hip, perfectly positioned in the glowing spotlight that the low lying sun was providing her as it pushed its way through the barred window; Sal always knew how to put herself in the most dramatic pose. "Elle sera la."

The phone was in her outstretch hand, so I took it and read: Tell the blond bitch to get he ass to Y Gafr. L's stir up the shit at Y Gafr se soir. 8.30.

I handed it back. "I don't take orders from a domestic."

Sal gave me one of her most condescending smiles and sauntered out. That woman could make walking through sheep shit look regal; I didn't know how she did it.

I lifted another sack onto my back and carried it out of the barn, contemplating my options. Lafayette's game was not one I felt should be played with the unaware, and I was beginning to think I should possibly clue our little American friend up on what the queer was about, but he had clearly fixed himself firmly in her heart, and I could tell from her body language alone that I was the evil villain in this story. If I was to tell her I would need to pick my time and wording carefully.

Standing outside Y Gafr later that night, I listened to the commotion. I was the other side of the dilapidated dry stone wall when I caught sight of Bill's wife burst through the door of the village pub. Following her in would look suspicious, so I waited.

Lorena was something of a legend in Llandifiau, I had heard her name whispered by locals several times, often with a hint of fear and awe. Her presence was obviously one the locals were none too keen on, judging from the background silence that surrounded her voice like an eerie mist. She was not a tall woman, nor was she obviously beautiful, but there was an air of authority about her that demanded attention.

Her voice was soft, but her words were harsh, and mostly directed at Bill. She was well aware of his affection for women as a fuckable group, and she claimed someone had informed her there was such a bang-able beauty around right now. Judging from Bill's interaction with her, Lorena had nothing to fear in losing him; he simpered and cowered, lapping up the words she spat at him as though they were cream. I did not hear Lorena ask who Bill's new interest was, nor did I hear Bill tell her, but her attentions turned to Sookie, and a tirade of bile poured forth.

The words were punishing, they were brutal, and they were utterly unfounded. It was clear that Sookie was interested in Bill, but this village was tiny, and if there had been any creaking of Bill's bed springs, everyone would have known.

I'd had enough; it was time to end this, ideally by ejecting Lorena from the building. I pictured myself lifting her by the scruff of the neck like the dog she was, and launching her out the nearest window.

I turned to face the door, but before I could close on it, a small blond creature flew through it and into my arms, tears streaming down her face.

As I held her close to me, her face in my chest, her sobs resonating through my stomach, I was affected by her touch and it clouded my mind to all other thoughts. Through my mind raced three words, over and over: _This is right._

A/N – 'ennet' is a Welsh pronunciation of "isn't it", the London equivalent being inni' with a short last 'i', and is redundant in a sentence most of the time, but it's certainly the way my relatives from South West Wales speak, apologies to anyone from Mid Wales who feels they are being misrepresented, I'd love to hear your thoughts if you want to PM me with them.

And to anyone who knows anything about modern sheep farming in the UK – yes, I am well aware Eric would probably not be shifting bags of feed, which tends to be on dairy farms. Sheep normally have hay bales or silage, however the image of everyone's favourite Viking carrying huge sacks on his back was just too much for me and I had to include it – sheep farming accuracy be damned!

_Lafayette a exigé que vous allez à l'Y Gafr_. – Lafayette has demanded you go to Y Gafr

_Elle sera la_ – She will be there.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N - Two updates so close together? What's going on! I was hit with inspiration for this chapter and it just came flooding out of me. Thanks to Northman Maille for her fabulous beta'ing skills! And also to Jan-of-arc, my brain bean feeder, who's now feeding me beans without saying a word! It's getting quite scary!**

**Also - a quick thank you to Teacuphuman who always leaves me lovely reviews but I can't respond to them - so I'm thanking you here! Thank you! xx**

**Finally - to all of you who speak English as a second language - Sookie is spending a lot of time remembering the events of last night in this chapter, so she skips back and forth between where she is, and what she remembers. I'm sorry if this is confusing, but I hope you can follow it.**

**Disclaimer - These sheep are not mine, they belong to Charlaine Harris, I'm just putting them out to pasture (Additional Sheep from the world of Winnie the Pooh either belong to Disney or the family of A.A. Milne - I can't remember)**

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**Chapter 11**

"Let's get you back to the farm." His voice was caring. I had been in no mood to argue I remembered, leaning on the fence and looking out over the fields into the woodland. The colors were beginning to change from greens to golds and browns.

I played with the stick in my hand, pulling at the bark, revealing the green fibers inside; if I had to feel this raw and exposed then so should everything else.

I recalled how I'd been shivering, not from the cold but from the anger and humiliation. He gave me his sweater to wear on the walk back, and I can't say the gesture didn't touch me. Not one of my new friends had stood up for me, none of them had said a word; they had just sat there, chins scraping the floor, as she laid into me. I don't even know what I'd done to deserve such abuse.

Lafayette had come out after me by the time Eric and I had reached the gate, but Eric had told him to go back inside, and again I had been grateful. I wasn't sure why I was so angry with my not-a-girl friend, but I felt oddly betrayed.

The mangled stick in my hands fell away and I gave in to my heartache, glad the cold metal gate was there to prop me up. My vacation was turning into one of beautiful highs, soft and floating like butterflies and summer flowers, followed by crushing lows that left me feeling like the pieces of Auntie's favorite vase after someone had knocked the table it was sat on. I know life has its ups and downs, but so many in such a short period of time? I was wondering if someone, somewhere was having a laugh at my expense.

We had walked in silence for most of the way back to the farm, and despite having him by my side I had never felt so alone. My mind had focused on home and phoning Gran, but I didn't want to break her heart by saying how unhappy with her amazing gift, so I tried to pull myself together.

Looking out on the Welsh countryside now, in the stunning glow of the September morning sun, I realized I had to leave this place and move on. There was nothing here for me to stay for that I couldn't find somewhere else, and I was sure I would meet other interesting characters in other hostels. I thought briefly about asking one of the other residents at the farm for a suggestion on where to head to next; there were too many interesting places in my guide book to decide myself. Just before I resorted to the idea of tossing coins, or randomly opening my book to see what page it landed on, I remembered someone who might be able to help me.

Pulling out my cell, and checking I had signal I dialed the number pre-programmed into it. After one ring she picked up.

"Pam. Speak."

"Hey there Pam, it's Sookie. You met me at the weekend. I was with Lafayette. We stayed at your appartment." I was probably giving her far more information than she needed; it had only been a few days earlier, but for all I knew random strangers turned up on her doorstep every day.

"Oh little Miss Sunshine!" she purred, and it really was a purr. "Yes, I remember you. What can I do for you? Please believe me when I say it will be my pleasure!"

"I've decided to explore other parts of the country, and I was wondering where you might suggest"

There was what sounded like a cuss the other end of the phone followed by a short silence.

"Are you okay Pam?"

"Trod on something. Well, let me see, there are the standard tourist spots: Oxford, Stratford, Cambridge... They're pretty enough, but if you want somewhere unsung, I suggest Birmingham: interesting architecture, decent museums, fascinating bits of history, some hidden gems, and, as many Brummies will be able to tell you, more canals than Venice." Telling me this, Pam sounded much more businesslike and cold, but then I guessed I would probably not be sounding so happy if I'd just stubbed my toe either.

"Okay, thanks Pam, I'll look it up. Would you suggest Oxford over Stratford? I mean if I had to choose just one."

"That depends if you want academia or theatrics. I can't advise you there. I have to go, but _do_ call me again if I can be of any _other_ form of assistance to you." Now that was just out right sarcastic. I made a note not to bother her again either. What was it with people?

I put the phone back in my pocket and wandered in a direction that was away from the Farm. I knew that if I was going to go I should just go, but I was still shaken from last night and needed to think. I'm not sure I'd have been able to move as easily as I did if it hadn't been for the helping hand of nature; my mood lightened a little as I was taken back to my childhood with thoughts of Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day. I just hoped that I wasn't about to meet any Heffalumps or Woozles as I headed into the woods.

My foot caught on a tree root and I stumbled. Last night he'd been there to catch me.

"Steady," was all he had said as his beautifully large hands had gently caught me and prevented me from experiencing another mud bath. My eyes had begun to well once more, and this giant of a man, who seemed so strong and so confident, pleaded with me. "Oh no, please don't start that again." The memory of it alone made me smile.

Once the farm was in sight he had spoken again, this time what he had to say had come as a complete surprise to me.

"I like you Sookie, mind you, who doesn't? You seem to have captivated the whole village."

I had stopped in my tracks and stared at him. Had he just complemented me? Or insulted me? The words had sounded nice, but the tone of his voice was odd, almost resenting.

"Apart from Lorena." I had regained my mental footing.

"She is not of this village, she does not live here, she does not count." I recalled the adamant vehemence with which he had spat each 'she'.

Looking round me I realized I had no idea where I was. I was cold, quite hungry, and once again, on my own with little idea of how to get back. This habit was becoming embarrassing. I sat down at the base of a tree and fished the sandwich out of my bag I had had the foresight to bring with me. Cheese and tomato; not the most exciting food, but something to be grateful for. I positioned myself on some tree roots, keeping myself off the damp carpet of dead leaves.

Absent mindedly I nibbled on my sandwich and continued my musing. I was pulled from my thoughts by some rustling. A squirrel hopped in front of me, a look of shock and bewilderment on his face matched my own; I was sure he was less than impressed by this giant creature sat at the bottom of his tree, but a small piece of bread seemed a small sacrifice on my part to apologize for taking up this space for a few moments.

"What do you think Mr. Squirrel? Do you think Eric was angry that she'd upset me?" I asked this furry rodent.

He stopped chewing on the bread and looked at me for a fraction of a second, then seemed to admire my boots before resuming his meal.

"Oh don't you think me rude now! I thanked him! I have manners!" I protested. "But what about Eric's parting words, huh? How am I to react to those?"

The squirrel ignored me completely.

"Silly Sookie! How can you advise me when you don't even know what he said! Well, he showed me to the door and said: "I'm not as bad as you think I am, well I hope I'm not." Then he went on to tell me he didn't want to make me feel uncomfortable, but he'd like to spend some time with me. Eric! Mr. Grumpy! I mean sure he's sex on legs, and you should see his ass!" The squirrel cocked his head at me. "Okay, you're probably right, it's not a girl squirrel's ass, but if it was, you'd be a very happy boy squirrel." My furry friend finished his feast and noting I wasn't dropping any more crumbs, scurried off. "Oh, fine, leave me talking to myself, Crazy Sookie strikes again."

Voicing Eric's words caused a drop of clue to fall into the puddle of realization; at no point had he leered at me, or been suggestive in his actions or comments. He had been a complete gentleman because I had needed him to be.

I gathered up the pieces of my crumbling brain and heart and assured myself it was time to move on, I'd had enough heartache here.

Lifting myself up onto my feet I noticed how dark it had become and looked up at the sky which was heavy and brooding. The wind caught the trees and for a second held them in such a way that made the shape of, what looked like, a Heffalump bounding across the ominous clouds. This was not a good sign. I looked around and tried to remember the way back. Picking my way through the trees I tried to ignore my, now very vivid, imagination which was spotting Woozle shadows at every turn.

I must have been away from the farm for hours, or at least it felt like it; it's amazing how time can run away with you when you're so engrossed in something. It hadn't truly dawned on me exactly how far I'd been walking until I came to try and find the road. I pulled my cell from my pocket, but the lack of signal made me put it back again. The wind was nipping at me, and I was beginning to regret not wearing something much, much warmer.

I heard it first.

And then I felt it.

Spit

Spot

Spitter, spot.

Spot, spot, spitter, spot, spot, spitter, spitter…

WOOSH!

The heavens opened.

I began to run. I'm not sure why, I don't think running in the rain actually reduces your chances of getting soaked. The autumnal canopy was providing some level of cover, but it was limited, and I knew I needed to get back.

By the time I finally reached a road I was wet through. My hair stuck to my cheeks, rain dripped from my eye lashes, my sodden clothes clung to me. The air was so thick with rain I could barely see ten feet in front of my face and a new river was making its way down the sides of the tarmac. I half expected to see Piglet in a honey pot, or Pooh and Christopher Robin in an up-turned umbrella sail past at any moment.

Left or right? I picked right and trudged on, the weight of my soaked clothes alone made running now impossible but, if I was honest, I had just plain old given up. Someone somewhere was telling me something pretty important – there was no way any of this was a positive sign.

The constant downpour washed away all concept I had of time; had I been walking for two minutes or twenty minutes when I heard the slow and definite churning of water by some form of car? I had no way of knowing, but I did know I was saved. The rain was thick and somewhat blinding, but surely they would see me since they were going slow enough.

I waved frantically. Bill was in the driver's seat.

He drove on by.

Of all the…

I sat on the small bank at the side of the road and sobbed. My tears were lost to the rain.

A few minutes later there was another car. I didn't move. What was the point?

A Range Rover drove past slowly, and a few yards away I heard it stop. A car door opened and closed.

"Sookie?"

I didn't look up. This wasn't real, it was just a Heffalump, a Heffalump that spoke, but a Heffalump none the less.

"Sookie?"

I lifted my head and water ran from every angle of my face.

"You're wet!" Eric stood before me, covered head to toe in the world's most unattractive water-proof jacket and pants, but even looking like a giant dork, he still managed to achieve what I was sure was impossible at that moment. He made me laugh.

"Yes," I put on my best Susan Sarandon voice. "It's raining."

"I think perhaps you'd better… come inside!" Eric held out his hand to me. I took it and he hoisted me to my feet. "You like the Rocky Horror?"

"Who doesn't?" Well actually I knew there were quite a lot of people who didn't, my brother included, who could never get his head around the idea of a man in stockings and stiletto pumps, but I loved it.

"It's playing in Manchester this Friday, if I can get tickets to the live show do you want to go and see it?" The fact that Eric was asking me out failed to register at that precise moment.

"Heck yeah!" We'd put it on at high school and I'd always wanted to see it at the theater, how could I turn him down? But that would mean sticking round longer; I wondered how much longer. I subconsciously bit my bottom lip as I tried to find a quick excuse to back out of my sudden 'date'. "Actually, I promised Lafayette I'd go to Canal Street with him on Friday if I was still here, so I should probably do that."

I hadn't noticed that Eric had been holding my hand all the way to his vehicle until he opened the passenger side door and supported me as I climbed in. He closed the door behind me and strode round to the driver's side. Sam was busy licking the rain off my face when Eric got in; they exchanged nothing more than a look and Sam backed off.

"Canal Street is in Manchester, did you know that?"

I didn't. _Well, fudge!_ I shook my head.

"We can meet up with Lafayette afterwards, or he could even come with us, if you would feel more comfortable."

After last night I was unsure how I felt about Lafayette, but he was the closest I had to a friend, and he had come out after me, so I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Plus, having a strong man by my side who was very much _not_ interested in me sexually might make being out with Eric a little easier. I bit my lip again at the thought of Eric in fancy dress for the Rocky Horror; would he dress as Frank-N-Furter, in a corset and stockings, or as Rocky, in just a pair of gold shorts. Oh dear!

"The more the merrier?" It wasn't the answer Eric wanted, given the look that flashed across his face, but he didn't let it deter him.

He started up the four by four and we set off slowly down the road.

"Okay, Friday I shall take you to see Rocky Horror, I'll sort out accommodation too."

I felt a wave of panic roll across me; this was not part of the plan. But then I remembered Lafayette mentioning something about a hotel for Canal Street.

"I think Lafayette already booked something. He got us a twin room, for him and me that is."

This time it was Eric's turn to laugh. For such a large man it was quite a soft chuckle. "You won't be sharing it with him."

"You sound awfully sure of that! Don't think that just because I've said I'll go to the theatre with you I'm sharing a bed too!"

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched upwards in a lopsided smirk. "I said no such thing. I said you wouldn't be sharing the room with him. Which you won't. And I am sure of that. As sure as I am that you'll be going out with me tomorrow. I'll show you something you'll never forget." As we pulled up at the farm he looked at me and winked.

I opened the door and hopped down. As I turned to close it he called out. "I'll pick you up at 10!"

I stood there, mouth hanging open, wanting to chastise him for his conceited confidence. In one fluid motion he leaned over, grabbed the door handle, stole a kiss, closed the door and drove off.

In shock, I remained there.

A few hours later, after I had showered and crawled into bed with a hot water bottle, a mug of hot chocolate and a book, I was still trying to shake three thoughts from my mind:

1 – Eric had kissed me

2 – Eric was taking me out tomorrow

3 – Eric had kissed me

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**A/N - Okay, so technically that's only two thoughts she's got there, but you can't tell me that being kissed by Eric isn't worth a count of two on it's own! And just WHAT is it that's so unforgettable that he's going to show her huh? ;o)**

**If you are unfamiliar with the cult of Rocky Horror, please do google it. Explaining it will not do it justice. First time I watched it I hated it, but the second time, after a couple of drinks with friends and giving into the compulsion to get up and join in with the dancing, and I was hooked! **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - Sorry for the two week wait, better than a month though I guess. This chapter was going to cover the entire of Thursday (if you've not been counting the days, don't worry, I have) but unfortunately Eric got chatty and I couldn't shut him up, so this is half of the day, the rest is yet to come.**

**Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Northman Maille - super fast, super great! Thanks also to Jan_of_arc who, when my brain stops working, seems to know the right things to say to put the wheels in motion again - best bean feeder there ever was! Love you both! Couldn't keep writing without you xx**

**Disclaimer - These aren't my sheep, they are the property of Charlaine Harris, I'm just putting them out the pasture.**

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The Souvenir

Chapter 12

He had tried to sneak back, but I had been waiting. My open palm had slammed into the wood beside his head barring his access to the accommodation barn, the shock of the impact had done little to release my frustration.

"Bitch!" He'd said, placing his hand over his heart and fanning himself. "Don't scare a sister like that."

"How dare you! How FUCKING DARE YOU!" The words had squeezed through my teeth, the volume kept low, the emotions running high. "You know what Lorena is capable of! And yet you said NOTHING."

"And where was ch'oh ass? Ch'oo too busy playing Lancelot on yo' white ass horse!"

Fuck! He was right; I should have turned up earlier. I should never have relied on this queen to protect Sookie. To protect Sookie? I had known her less than five days and my instinct was to protect her? No, my instinct was for more than that. Damn him. Why had he brought her here?

"Well you can stop treating her like a toy, and start treating her like a friend." At which point I had left him, and skulked back to my cottage.

As I stood on the hill, watching her small frame leaning on the gate, bathed in the glorious Welsh morning sun, I wondered how fragile she was feeling, and whether she'd let me take her heart and warm it with my own. I looked down at Sam, his cornflower blue eyes met mine and I had this odd momentary sensation we were thinking the same thing. I laughed at myself and called him away to work. There was nothing I could do just yet, she needed time.

The cloud cover was so thick by the time I made it back to the farm for lunch that it felt more like six o'clock than one. Her rental car was still parked outside, so she hadn't fled the scene just yet. I reminded myself that so far there was nothing to regret if she left, she'd just be another pretty face to remember on cold, lonely nights. But I wanted to hold her so very close, stroke her hair as she laid her head against my chest, feel her skin against my skin.

I mentally bitch slapped myself for being so smitten so soon and went inside, but the possibility of seeing Sookie had put a slight bounce in my step I could not deny.

She wasn't there.

I dropped myself into one of the bentwood chairs that Sal was part way through renovating, my arms heavily found their way onto the table as I waited to be served. My actions could be taken as tired, but Lafayette is overly observant, something I both value and despise.

He practically threw my lunch in front of me with the inelegant manners of a hacked off short-order cook, and flicked the towel he'd used to protect his hand from the warm plate over his shoulder. "She not here."

No answer was deserved, I wasn't blind, but I grunted my acknowledgement.

"She not _here._" He drew out the last word, and added emphasis with a widening of his mascara'd eyes followed by a raising of his pencilled eyebrows.

I looked out the window. _Shit_. It wasn't raining, but it soon would be, and a strange inkling told me she was out there, alone, unprepared for the weather that was about to hit us. "Where did she go?" I asked, not looking up from my pie. I had to hand it to him, it was a good pie, but then I don't make a habit of hiring bad chefs.

Lafayette didn't turn around from the range where he was preparing some amazing feast or other and just shrugged. "Pam say she thinkin' o' leavin' though. Choo might wanna do some'it about that."

I finished up my lunch and gulped a glass of water. I headed for the door to fetch my waterproofs. My hand on the doorframe, I bowed my head hoping that what I was about to say wasn't going to jinx my plans.

"I'll need two packed lunches for tomorrow. We'll be leaving at 10."

.-oOEOo-.

My heart was racing as I closed the door to my cottage and leaned my back against it.

I had kissed Sookie.

I wondered if induced a smile on her face the way it did mine.

I was taking her out tomorrow. And I needed tickets for Friday.

I had kissed Sookie!

Breathing deeply I pulled myself together, found a pen and paper and wrote my instructions for Lafayette. Having no phone or internet was like a spoonful of cod liver oil: really unpleasant, apparently doing me good, but I'd yet to be convinced by the results.

Half way through writing the task list I looked up and into middle distance… Next time, she would kiss me back!

.-oOEOo-.

He eyed me with attitude, his pout contained more petulance than your average teenage girl. "Bitch, you does not want to know how much I hates Rocky Horror."

"Your right, I don't. Your eye liner's smudged." He whipped out a pocket mirror and kohl pencil; vanity is such a great handle to have on someone. "Just get Pam to sort it. Three tickets, front of house. And bitch?"

He looked up from the mirror and glared at me. "Hookah?"

"We're dressing up, so make an effort – and help Sookie find something." I waved the wicker hamper at him. "And thanks for this Lafayette."

I left him adjusting his makeup.

.-oOEOo-.

I leaned over and pushed open the door to the four by four. She climbed on board.

"Got your boots?"

She waved a tote bag at me, and I took the gesture to mean 'I'm blonde, but I'm not stupid', although after getting caught in that rain the day before I could have argued the toss.

"No Sam today?" she asked looking round. Sam normally made himself comfortable on the dirty old blankets on the back seat, and not only was his absence obvious, so were the fresh clean blankets.

"I'm not the only one having a break. Besides, Car won't let his kids have a dog, so they like the chance to dog-sit, and Sam enjoys chasing a ball as much as chasing the sheep." I could see Morgan's reasoning on not having a dog, neither he nor his wife were at home during the day, and the children were not in want of dog contact, what with all the other dogs in the village, but there's nothing quite like having your own loyal companion. But far be it from me to try to change a Welshman's mind once it's made up, they're almost as bad as Yorkshire men.

Sookie seemed contented with my answer, even if a little saddened not to be able to throw a ball for Sam herself. I love my dog more than I tend to admit, but start a game of fetch with a collie and it never ends; I wanted to spend my time with Sookie to be as undisturbed as possible.

"So where are you taking me today?" Her sweet southern accent hinted of sunshine with every harmonic. I could bask in her words for hours, just lying there, listening to her chatter away while I leisurely stroked her hair or naked tanned shoulder...

_Mind on the road, Eric!_ I reminded myself. "I thought I'd show you a wonder of nature. It's _big_, it's _very_ big, and powerful, you'll be very impressed with how _powerful_ it is. But it has a gracious beauty to it... I don't want to spoil the surprise for you though." I chuckled lightly to myself. "So, enough about me, tell me about you. What's brought you to Wales?"

The innuendo seemed to slip silently over her blonde locks. "Lafayette." She smiled at me, her lips full of pure natural delights such as buttercups and forget-me-nots; oh, if nature would make a man of me yet...

"You've known him long?" I asked, trying to focus.

"Only since the flight over, we were seat buddies. I hadn't planned what I was going to do on my trip, so when he offered to be a short term tour guide I figured why the heck not, let's have an adventure. I think it might be time to move on from here now though." There was a bounce to the meter of her words, but also a hint of sadness, and that pained me. "This vacation was a present from people who can't afford me to not enjoy it, so I'm just going to get on with enjoying it."

In that moment I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her not to move on, but begging's not on my business, there are other ways.

"Where do you think you'll go next? Have you any thoughts?"

With no hesitation: "Stratford. I was talking to Pam about it yesterday, just before that awful storm, and I think Stratford."

"Pam?" Nonchalance was key.

"Oh, she's someone I met in London, Lafayette and I stayed at her flat on our first night. She was... well I guess she was sweet. She seemed a little, odd. I put it down to her being English, y' know?" It was her turn to chuckle.

Oh yes, I knew Pam. Brusque was a good way to describe her, down-right rude was another, but she had a heart of gold, and if Sookie found her 'sweet' then Pam obviously liked her quite a bit. "Yes, I know how some English can be, but they're no different to any other nation, not really. You have the nice ones, the rude ones, the kind ones, the selfish ones... " I trailed off. "So, Stratford huh?"

"Yes, I know what you're thinking, American tourist does Stratford, how clichéd, but I want to see it. I love the theatre. I want to see if I can take in a show while I'm there. It'd be so great to see one of Shakespeare's plays at the Globe theatre!" Her enthusiasm for this next part of her trip was too infectious and delectable to want to squash, but I was going to, I could feel it. I wanted to keep her for myself, I wanted her here.

"Sorry to break it to you, but the Globe's in London. I've been told the theatres in Stratford are new, or in the process of being developed, I'm not sure, I've not been there for a very long time." This was a white lie, or at least, it depended on your definition of 'very long'. I certainly hadn't been for a few years, which might seem like no time at all if you'd never been, but if you go every other month, then several years is an age. But let's not get into semantics.

"Oh. I thought, oh never mind... I'm sure there'll be something I can watch." She was upbeat, and it sounded genuine, this was a good start.

Our conversation continued, and I learnt about her family back home, her line of work and her love of dreadful romance novels. She told me all about the area she grew up, how she'd moved away after college and how much she really wanted to move back. The camaraderie she'd developed with the locals in just a few short nights down at Y Gafr's reminded her very much of the bar she used to work in during her college vacations, and there was something seductive about her innocent desire to return to that. I guess a lot of us crave that sense of familiarity, that sense of belonging; it was something I'd been happy to live without, until she showed up, and suddenly I wanted to be part of her world, even if it meant breaking my unsociable habits.

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**A/N Ooooh! Where have they gone? What's he going to show her? Tune in next time for more exciting sheepy adventures!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N - Sorry for the delay, I had a serious attack of writer's block. I put this down to being a poorly critter (I'm not going to bore you) and being constantly tired. I'm currently on vacation however, so I'm hoping the relaxation will allow me to get at least one more chapter out by the end of the week. Fingers crossed!**

**A HUGE thank you to Northman Maille for her ever increasing beta skills, and her obsessive insistence in returning this to me in the middle of the night. Another massive thank you to Jan_of_arc who keeps prodding me with a cattle prod and force feeding me brain beans in the hope that a few farts will come out.**

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**The Souvenir

Chapter 13

If being alone with me, in the largely uninhabited Welsh countryside, unlikely to find a mobile 'phone signal to call for help if I turned 'evil fiend' on her, then she didn't show it. By the time I pulled the Land Rover up to the side of a hedge we'd been on the road for nearly an hour. If she'd asked me I would have told her I drove carefully so as not to scare her, but that was only part of the reason. Sitting there at the wheel, with her by my side, was uninterrupted Sookie time that I had no desire to pass up. Oh sure, the whole day was 'ours' but once we stepped out of the vehicle, goodness only knows who or what would take her attention away from me.

The sound of Pistyll Rhaeadr called to me as I put my foot onto tarmac. I had missed her. Her siren's song, forceful and demanding, pulled me so strongly that I almost forgot why I was here. Almost, but not quite.

After grabbing the hamper from behind Sookie's seat, I took care not to slam my door, which was not easy, it's a bloody stiff door, but she was changing her tennis shoes to her walking boots, and I didn't want to make her jump. – A dashboard induced head injury was far from what I had planned. The spring in my step was hard to conceal as I made my way around to the passenger side, opened her door for her, and waited. It occurred to me that time might have been saved if I'd told her to wear her boots from the offset, but then I would have missed out on the chance to see her slightly flustered and anxious as she delayed us further.

"We're in no rush," I assured her. "Take your time." Leaning against the side of the vehicle, a piece of my hair fell into my face and I tucked it behind my ear as I tried to make small talk. "So, tell me about home."

"Monroe? Or Bon Temps?" she asked, her voice slightly strained from being bent double.

"Whichever you count as home."

She sat up, her boots tied and her hair tousled. "Hmm, Bon Temps then I guess, Monroe is just where I live and work, but Bon Temps is where my heart is." She took my outstretched hand and stepped out of the Land Rover as I closed the door behind her. "It's where I grew up, it's where my family are; it's a small a small one-bar town where we all know each other, very much like Th-land-if-ee-ow." I fought the belly laugh that was rising in my throat at her pronunciation of the Welsh name. It was slow and laboured and full of an insecure pride at her efforts; I couldn't help but find it endearing, in the same way one is impressed at the cuteness of a child trying out a word like 'myriad' or 'opulence' for the first time.

She chattered away contentedly about her home town and her family and friends while I quietly listened, contented just to be have her with me , until the roar could be ignored no longer. I nudged my head in the direction of the dirt path, and she followed.

.-oOSOo-.

I was feeling mighty happy and relaxed since making up my mind to move on. I had a couple of things I'd promised to do, and I was determined to make them as fun as I could, but then I was packing up my bag and heading on out. The world is a real shiny place when you know what you're about, or at least I find it is; things just seem to feel clean and neat.

I'd managed to chat to Gran the night before too, which had settled me. Before Jason had driven me from Bon Temps to the airport, I'd shown Gran how to use Skype on the old computer I'd given her: she seemed real excited about chatting to me face to face despite being thousands of miles away. While I was curled up with my hot chocolate, trying to get my head around the idea that Eric had kissed me, I thought I'd load up some of the photographs I'd been taking. Spotting Gran online, I called, and it was wonderful. She's been my Gran, mother, sister and friend for as long as I can remember; my own parents died when I was young. Her voice alone soothes me, makes the world seem right, but seeing her soft smile, her comforting eyes… there's just no way to tell you how that feels.

I told her all, well, most, of what had been happening. I didn't mention Lorena, or Bill, what would be the point? But I told her nearly everything else. She demanded that I invite Lafayette around for dinner, once we were both back home, so she could thank him for looking after me, and she insisted I took plenty of photos of Eric so that she could see what a Knight in shining armor really looked like. I tried to point out that he wasn't that special, but she said that since he'd rescued me three times he was something to be admired.

So there I was, almost an hour from anywhere I recognized, without my own transport, a cell signal, and 'my rescuer', this trip was just one of the things I had to get out of the way before I could carry on with my vacation and head to Stratford. I'd asked him where we were going and all he could do was make suggestive comments, which I let wash over my head. I've never been short of male attention, much of it quite nasty, so I learnt the lady-like art of 'blissful ignorance' to help me cope.

But when he wasn't being suggestive, he was actually real nice; I'll be honest and say I was surprised.

We walked along a rough asphalt road, the wind channeled between the two tall hedgerows, and I silently cursed myself for not thinking to bring a hair tie or brush with me; I must have looked a wreck. Eric, however, looked… well… perfect. That was annoying! This man who, just a few days ago, had seemed rude and stand-off-ish was now all smiles and a niceness, and as much as I hated to admit it, looked so incredibly sexy.

As we rounded a corner a cute little wooden cottage came into view, and beyond it was just the most amazing waterfall I've ever seen; not that I've seen many you understand, but this was truly beautiful.

"I don't know about you, but I could do with a coffee!" Eric directed me towards the cottage; a coffee shop that just didn't seem to fit in its setting. "You take a seat, I'll get the drinks. You want coffee? Or tea?"

"Coffee please. Milk and a sugar." I took a seat at the bench that had the best view of the water fall. The power was immense, but at the same time so peaceful.

"It's real big isn't it?" I said as a cup of coffee appeared before me. I looked up and all I could see was groin. Judging from the tightness of his trousers the words that followed were no boast.

"Why yes. So good of you to notice!" His lips were curled into a full on smirk and his eyebrows went into waggle over-drive.

I could feel the blush starting around about my knees, but it didn't take a dog's sneeze before it covered my face in a ruby glow.

Sitting opposite me, Eric took a small bag from his pocket and scattered its contents on the table. "If you have a camera with you, you might want to whip it out, we'll have some guests very soon, and they're not camera shy."

Sure enough, as we sat there quietly, sipping our coffees, a small grey bird with hints of blue about it hopped onto the fence post next to me and twitched its head nervously eyeing up the bounty of grains on the table. Another joined it, this one speckled with brown, and after a few short seconds we were separated by a half dozen tiny wild birds. Eric sat there smiling into his coffee, watching them. I had taken his advice and was busily using up my camera's memory, snapping away at the unusual sight; and once or twice I took a photograph of the birds too.

"You're not as miserable as you first appear are you?" I asked after the birds finally started to leave us.

He looked up, his contentedness still showing in his smile. "I'm not miserable at all, I'm just shy." He chuckled.

"Now that I don't believe."

"I don't see the point in making the effort for a lot of people, they just disappoint." His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "Why waste the energy?"

"So why are you wasting your energy on me?" I was getting a little braver around him now; a man who took pleasure in feeding birds just didn't seem quite so frightening.

"Who said it was a waste? You seem to have a kind and generous nature, plus you have a great pair of tits."

A spray of coffee covered him as my shock got the better of me.

"Obviously it's not every day someone tells you you're a nice person," he said, his face deadpan. "Such a shame." He smiled again, and, as much as I hated to admit it, I quite liked the sight. Pieces of his shoulder length hair had fallen out of his pony tail, framing his ice blue eyes which sparkled with mirth, and made his lips seem so much more soft and kissable.

This wasn't like me. Just forty eight hours ago I was thought I smitten with a married man, and couldn't stand the sight of the man before me, and now? And now almost overnight my opinions had changed. I didn't consider myself to be fickle, it was not a trait that Gran approved of, but here I was, wondering just which way the wind of my affections was going to point next.

"So what do you do when you're not herding sheep?"

Eric finished mopping the coffee dew from his face. "Clean the barns, feed the sheep, take the sick ones to the vets, the healthy ones to market, see to general repairs, and keep Sal at a safe distance… the usual types of chores you'd expect on a farm."

"No I meant what do you do when you're not playing at farm boy. This isn't your real job is it?"

"Ah." He took another sip from his coffee. "I guess you could say I herd sheep for a living too… they just walk on two legs rather than four. Dealing with people can be very much like dealing with sheep."

It was clear from the tone in his voice and the meter of his words that this was all he was saying on the subject. This marked both the end of that conversation and the end of our coffees. We sat there, staring at each other for a few awkward moments until Eric spoke up.

"Shall we walk? There's a nice route that takes us up and round the back of the waterfall."

Before we left he took the cups back into the cottage, then swept up what remained of the seeds back into his paper bag. He offered me his hand, which was becoming as much of a habit as his rescuing me, and I took it.

"You're not from Wales are you, or England?" I asked him as we began our journey along a not-quite-so-dry dirt path.

"Sweden, originally, but I've travelled a lot. I like Wales a lot though, I was thinking about settling here."

"Was?"

"Things change, I'm considering my options."

I wasn't sure why, but I was blushing again. He didn't mention me, he didn't say I was the cause of his consideration, but none the less I was as red as a beet.

The walk wasn't a long one, and we used the time to talk music tastes and movies. Eric became real animated when we talked about one of my favorite films: 'You Don't Mess with the Zohan'. His impersonation of the Zohan was uncanny, and he kept making me giggle with different phrases from the movie.

It was only when we came to a strange shaped swing gate that it dawned on me we were holding hands. My teeth found my bottom lip and, what felt like all the blood in my body, found my cheeks; it had felt so natural I hadn't noticed, but all of a sudden I felt like a gawky teenager.

"Have you seen a gate like this before?" He asked me, and I shook my head. There was no lock on it, it just swung backwards and forwards between a curved bay. It was safe to say that it was the strangest gate I'd ever seen.

"They're quite common around the U.K. countryside. It stops live stock passing from one field to another, without making walkers climb over a stile." Eric pushed the gate away from him and stepped into the bay. Just as I was about to step into the bay behind him he pushed the gate in front of me, blocking my path. "Ah! Ah! Ahhhh!"

He leaned on the gate until our faces were level.

"It's called a kissing gate." He smiled at me; half way between a smirk and a seductive smile, I knew what was coming next. "Tradition has it that you cannot pass until you give me a kiss."

The pressure of my teeth on my lips became almost painful. I knew I could refuse if I really wanted to, from his behavior earlier I knew he wouldn't force me, but did I want to?

I stared at him, trying to find my own mind as fast as I could.

The wind caught my hair and blew it across my face.

Eric's hand reached forward to brush the strands away that were covering my eyes.

I grabbed it, closed my eyes and leaned forward.

His warm breath caressed my cheek as our lips met; I tried to hang onto the moment but the world was disappearing around me. Every harsh line softened, every bad memory passed away, every thought I had about leaving started to waiver. A heat blossomed at the base of my stomach and radiated towards every sensitive area I possessed. My heart fluttered, my knees started to fold and a glow, more intense and primal than I'd ever felt before, was burned between my legs.

My entire body screamed in frustration as he pulled away.

"And now I can let you pass."

.-oOSOo-.

That evening Eric returned to his farm yard chores while I was sitting in Y Gafr with what was beginning to feel like my 'gang' of local friends, trying not to play and replay that kiss in my head. My body still yearned for more, my heart was aching from just that one kiss, but nothing had happened afterwards. Our hands had not touched again; no mention was made of the intensity of our attraction, no remarks, and no innuendos. The following day we would be going to see Rocky Horror, so things were not over, but were they going to actually begin?

A few drinks into the evening and the conversation went back to one I'd been having earlier that day: movie quotes. Evans the Hair did a great impression of Crush from 'Finding Nemo', and had us all falling about.

"Saw the whole thing, dude. First you were all like "whoa", and we were like "whoa", and you were like "whoa..." … You, Mini-Man, takin' on the jellies. You've got serious thrill issues, dude. Awesome…"

A packet of potato chips landed on the table as one of the Morgans brought over some drinks and snacks. Lafayette and I eyed each other; if anyone else had looked they would have seen the word "seagulls" written across our faces. Our hands snatched forwards in unison, making a grab for the packet.

"Mine!"

"Mine!"

Evans made a grab too. "Mine!"

"Mine!" "Mine!" "Mine!" "Mine!

A chill crossed my back and I caught Bill looking over the bar and above my head.

I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders as the room fell silent.

"Mine!"

I tilted my head back and my heart skipped at the look on the face that gazed back at me.

* * *

**A/N - Welsh pronunciation... the infamous "LL" is a kind of "th" sound, but not quite. My mother is Welsh (as I think I've already said in previous A/Ns) so I've instinctively picked up the sound from her, but for those who come to it as an adult, it's quite tricky to get to grips with. The sound is made by lightly pressing the tip of your tongue against the roof of your mouth, just behind your front teeth, and pushing air either side of your tongue. It's not a sound that really comes from the voice box, and that's possibly where people go wrong.**

**Pistyll Rhaeadr is sort of pronounced "pistith rye-adder" - sort of anyway.**

**Sookie's attempted pronunciation of Lland****ifiau is close.**

**My current favourite joke is: "My wife accused me of having an affair with a girl from Llanfair-pwllgwyngyllgogerych-wyrndrobwll-llantysiliogogogoch. How could she say such a thing?" (please note, there shouldn't be an -'s in the place name, but FFn won't let me post it without them)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Yes, two chapters within the space of a week - don't faint! As I mentioned, I'm on holiday, so writing is much MUCH easier when I don't have the day to day tedium of work to contend with.**

**Many thanks to Northman Maille (alisonbynumbers) who's beta'ing skills just get better and better and better (or should that be beta and beta and beta... okay, fine, I'll stick to the day job), and thanks to Jan_of_arc who feeds me brain beans without even trying now... her pressure cooker must be on the stove all the time!**

**This chapter has a lot of references in it to Rocky Horror - if you've not seen it or you don't like it, sorry! There will be a few explanations in my footnote.**

**Disclaimer: Not my sheep, I just chase them around the field a bit. They, and their barn, belong to Charlaine Harris. Oh - And Rocky Horror's not mine either... Richard O'Brien wrote it, don't think he owns the rights now though...**

* * *

**The Souvenir**

**Chapter 14**

**It's just a jump to the left...**

I walked through the door and instinctively dropped my keys in the crimson dish.

It had been six months, but I was on autopilot as I made my way to the desk and pushed the 'on' switch to my desktop computer.

Nothing happened.

I looked at my in-tray and saw there were no letters.

I pushed the button on the answer machine – no messages.

There was a slight cough behind me.

My autopilot switched itself off as I looked to the heavens and sighed.

"This is why you're not meant to be here," she said as she used my antique paper-knife to carefully slice open one of the many envelopes which sat beside her on the butter-soft sofa. "Your clothes are on the bed. And don't bother with the computer in your bedroom either, everything's disconnected."

Pam opened another envelope and assessed its contents as I; shoulders slumped, walked towards the bedroom.

A memory returned to me; like the addict I was, I remembered a secret supply, but my body language must have given me away.

"If you think I didn't find the crackberry in your sock drawer then you're insulting my deep and twisted ability to read you like a book Eric." She slid the knife along another envelope fold. "Lafayette has your tickets, they're fabulous seats and you've paid a lot of money for them, so go get pretty. I will be here all night, just as I promised. Now go and entertain the lady, just as _you_ promised."

**.-oOSOo-.**

**And then a step to the right...**

"Would'choo hol' still girl? I's gonna burn yo' lily white scalp if you don't stop wit' the dancin'!"

I couldn't help myself. Rocky Horror, live, in England, with the original Riff Raff playing the narrator, and we had some of the best seats in the house. Lafayette claimed he knew someone who worked for the theatre, but how many people can one man know? I mean really? In a country he doesn't live in! Someone had spent a lot of money on this, and I was willing to place a lot of money on that someone being Eric. I felt real uncomfortable about that. I offered to pay for my ticket but Lafayette wouldn't take my money; I made a mental note to pay for all the drinks.

"Don't tell me you're not excited Lafayette! Richard O'Brien! The man WROTE the thing! I'm so stoked I could spit!" My brain caught up with my mouth and I corrected myself. "Not that I spit…"

His amusement and annoyance showed in one flick of his fine green eyelids; his hip pushed to the right, his head cocked to the left. "Honey, I likes the Rocky Horror, it's got some _fine_ specimens o' men in it, but if you wants me to believe you's this hoppin' over some old bald English dude, you's dizzy girl! If choo tells me you's all squirmin' fo' somethin' tall and blond, we might be mo' on the money."

Who was I kidding? He was right. I was looking forward to the show, but the thought of seeing Eric had my stomach all of a flutter in antici…_pation_.

**.-oOSOo-.**

**With your hands on your hips...**

My dreams had been filled with the same blond coming to my rescue, one fantasy after another: dressed in tarnished and battered armor he saved me from a dragon. In a flouncy shirt, waistcoat and hose he protected my honor by dueling with a dark-haired cad. Agitated and disheveled, wearing a tailored tweed suit, he released me from the train tracks that the mysterious stranger in the top hat and cape had tied me to not moments before, and we embraced as the train hurtled past in a silent movie soundtrack. But these dreams frustrated and annoyed me; I am not the weak and feeble woman. Gran had raised me to be a lady, that much is true, but having manners and being polite does not mean I need a man to rescue me at every turn; she also taught me to be strong and independent.

I had an unusually late start that Friday, when the sun is up then so am I. Groggily I made my way to the kitchen and blinked a "good morning" at Lafayette who laughed at my state and put coffee and cereal on the table in front of me.

I was hung-over.

In a hazy corner of my addled brain I started to ponder what was up with Eric; he obviously wasn't just your average farm-hand. I was real curious about what he did, who he was, why he was so alone. He'd gone out of his way to be nice to me, I could see that, and I had seen that he almost went out of his way to avoid pretty much everyone else. It seemed that he knew people at Y Gafr's well enough to acknowledge them, a nod here, a grunt of recognition there, but I'd seen him speak to no one, other than Sal. I hadn't seen him speak with anyone that is until he had declared me his in front of the entire bar! After that he sat down and chatted with everyone as though they were all long standing friends and everyone seemed just fine with him.

But I told myself I'd think about it later, once the pounding in my head eased up.

Once Eric joined our little gaggle around the table, drinks started to flow faster, and everything got real blurry. I remembered being very disappointed and surprised that Eric had told Lafayette to take me home, but in the cold and painfully sober light of morning I was actually kind of grateful. Nothing overly embarrassing was springing to mind, so I stared vacantly into my bowl of corn flakes, contented that the night ahead hadn't been ruined before we'd got to the theatre.

Lafayette spoke to me; at least I'm sure there were words, but all they did was cause a throbbing in my head. I gazed up at him and he chuckled.

"Choo gonna hurl?"

I shook my head and winced at my actions.

"Okay, we's gone ge'choo somethin' fo' tonight. Choo got summer dresses wi'choo right?"

A slow nod was all I could manage, but it was enough.

"Got a plain one? In blue o' pink? A white purse? I sho' you aint got a straw Sunday hat. White ballet pumps?"

So many questions. The idea of letting my hot forehead drop into the ice-cold milk that the cornflakes were floating in was mighty tempting, but I forced myself to answer. "Dress, yes. Purse, hat, shoes, no. Got any Advil?"

A knowing smile spread across his glossy lips, and as he opened his hand, two beautiful blue capsules sat in his palm. Never had Advil looked so delightful, so pretty, so… oh fudge, maybe I was feeling a might sick after all.

When I was finally sober enough to drive, Lafayette fed me sandwiches full of greasy goodness for lunch and we set off. It was just the pair of us, heading to our basic little twin room at a Premier Inn. I didn't know what Eric was doing with his day, but apparently he was going to meet us at the theatre; I figured he had chores on the farm to see to as Andre didn't look like the type who could manage heavy lifting.

Laf had called ahead to a load of different thrift stores that we _had_ to call into on our route to Manchester. By the time we reached the city I had an almost perfect "Janet" costume, including a 1970's lilac coat dress in a horribly itchy nylon, a cream straw hat, complete with a silk flower that looked like it had died a few decades ago, a white sling purse, and white ballet pumps that were marked two sizes too small for me yet fit perfectly.

The clack of the curling irons brought me back to the hotel room chair, and Janet stared back at me from the mirror.

**.-oOEOo-.**

**Bring your knees in tight...**

The foyer was teeming with enthusiasts and virgins alike. Programmes were being bought, drinks consumed and photographs taken of those of us in the better costumes.

The wig was itchy, hot and uncomfortable but I was pleased to note how easily I slipped back into the stilettos. Pam had done her research and I had a wonderfully comfortable outfit made for someone of my size, well, as comfortable as a basque, stockings and frilly pants get. I was pleased that she'd taken the effort to get 'real' items, and not some fancy dress costume, not that I planned on wearing it again in a hurry, but the quality of some of these things didn't last 5 minutes, let alone a whole night of dancing.

My make-up I'd managed myself; it had been a while, but applying lip liner and kohl is like riding a bicycle – at first you damage yourself horribly and look like a fool, but you get there in the end. The only thing I was missing was the chunky pearl necklace, which Pam pulled from her handbag and fastened around my neck.

"I made this, but don't think I'm getting soft! I couldn't buy one for your neck size." She turned me round and held my shoulders. "It doesn't mean I like you!"

I remembered the hug we'd shared as I put my arm around another Rocky Horror virgin and smiled for the camera. I missed Pam; she might be my assistant but she's also my best friend. I sighed quietly to myself and again reminded myself that having no friends outside work had helped get me where I was.

When I spied the queer in a t-shirt offering to make me a man in just seven days, I realised she wouldn't be far from him. I excused myself from another eager virgin and made my way over.

I tapped Lafayette on the shoulder. "Where is she?" There was no hint of anxiety in my voice, but from his smirk it was probably showing in my eyes.

"She here." He waved his colourful drink in the direction of another photo call. She looked the part: an innocent creature with curiosity and desire raging under the surface.

I strutted over and caught her eye. I heard a slight gasp escape her lips and what sounded like "Oh My!"

"Oh don't get strung out by the way I look." I crooned and gave a slight shimmy. "'Don't judge a book by its cover. I'm not much of a man by the light of the day, but by night I'm one _hell_ of a lover!'"

I tried not to smirk as I noticed, from the corner of my eye, it wasn't just Sookie who swooned, but my eyes were only for her, and hers were fixed on no one but me. People asked for photos and probably took them, but we ignored them, heard nothing, noticed even less; the only sensation was her lips on mine.

This was going to be a great night.

"Shall we go in lover?" I asked her.

"I'm not your lover," came her protest.

"Not _yet_"

My put my hand on the small of her back and ushered her to our vantage point. Pam was right, they were great seats.

**.-oOLOo-.**

**But it's the pelvic thrust...**

I's funkin' sexy, aint many as sexy as me, but when I's under pressure to perform it jus' gets that li'l bit harder, choo know?

They was actin' like Angelina and Brad from the moment the play started, and I was thankin' Jesus not to be stuck between them. When Eddie's body was showed to the audience Sookie's face found its way into his blond chest and the fucker grinned at me like he got this all on he own. I shot him a look to remin' him he owe me, he owe me big.

A cab took us to Canal Street after the show and I dragged us into the club wit' the prettiest crowd. We wasn't the only Rocky Horror rejects out and about, but Eric draw the stares like a flame draw the moths. One bitch accuse him of havin' a beard, but his eyes and ears was only for Sook, which was lucky for the stupid big mouthed hooker; Eric got a punch meaner than he stare when he angry, an' insultin' Sookie might jus' release the beast.

They stayed for an hour, 'til I was sho' I had me a bed fo' the night, then I gave him the nod, an' he took her back to our room.

**.-oOEOo-.**

**That really drives you insane...**

She was tipsy, though thankfully not as drunk as she'd been the night before. I wanted to take her naked body in my arms and enjoy everything, but I wanted her sober when I did. I had to know this was what she truly wanted.

But by gods were my balls blue.

Six months! I'd not known the touch of a woman for six months, despite all Sal's attempts, and oh how I wanted Sookie. It was all I could do to keep from showing the world how much I wanted her; those frilly pants left very little to the imagination.

There was no reception desk which meant there was no receptionist to notice that I wasn't the same man who checked into the hotel with her. We were giggly and contented in one another's company, my hand on the small of her back, hers on the frills of my pants.

She was increasingly hard to resist. I had only intended on showing her back to the hotel room, but the door was open, and from under the brim of her hideous cream hat, her eyes beckoned me in.

"Oh, won't you come in?" she asked, her soft lashes batting like a newly pupated butterfly. "Oh kiss me darling!"

I leant down and enjoyed her delicately silken lips. Her hands gripped the back of my head and pulled off my wig, my hair falling about my face. She gasped in mock horror.

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she squealed "It's you!"

"I'm afraid so Sookie, but isn't it _nice_!"

Lightly she beat my chest and shook her head "Oh you beast! You Monster! You tricked me! I wouldn't have! I never, never..."

I loosely held her wrists, let the door close behind me and gently directed us towards one of the two single beds. "Yes yes, I know, but it isn't all bad is it?"

As she lay back I knelt on the floor and slid my hands up her smooth, nylon hugged thighs and gripped her bottom with the lust of a man who had waited for this moment all his life. Hooking my fingers into the waist band of her tights I nuzzled the warmth between her legs with my nose; her squirming almost made me forget myself and let my primal instincts take over, but I bit the inside of my cheek to bring myself back to earth.

"You really found it quite pleasurable." I teased as I pulled her tights to her knees.

She giggled as she protested "Oh, stop, I mean help, Oh Brad! Oh Brad!"

"Brad? Who the fuck is Brad?" I laughed. "And would you like him to see you like this?" I pushed her legs up over my shoulders and nuzzled her again.

I lifted myself up again and rested an elbow on the bed.

"I was saving myself." Her voice was husky and wanting.

My hand crept up the inside of her gratifyingly firm thigh and my fingers stroked her dewy heat, lightly spreading her lips and losing myself inside her. "Well I'm sure you're not spent yet."

The soft moan that broke from her throat encouraged my fingers deeper. She pulled herself up onto her elbows and looked at me with all seriousness. "Promise you won't tell Brad?"

Using my thumb to make her gasp I grinned at her. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

She collapsed back. It wasn't long before she was screaming my name.

**.-oOSOo-.**

**Let's do the time warp again! **

I wanted more. I wanted to writhe over him, naked and sweating, I wanted to please him as he was pleasing me. I wanted it all.

Instead he made my head explode and my body convulse then wrapped himself around me as we lay on my bed. He stroked my hair and spoke to me softly in a language I didn't understand until I drifted off.

It was morning when I woke, and Lafayette was curled up in the bed next to mine.

I wondered if I'd dreamed it all, if my overly frustrated imagination had gone into overdrive, but there were a pair of giant pumps at the side of my bed, and a brown curly wig on the bedside table.

I grinned coyly and let out a contented sigh as I touched where he had touched.

I really had given myself over to absolute pleasure.

* * *

**A/N - Crackberry - if you've not heard this term before then yes, it is a reference to a Blackberry - the smart phone that every business-person seems to have permanently attached to their hand. Not just for business people though - I know a few hippies who are hooked on their blackberries. The term was coined by the media for the addiction that people had to these phones.**

**Someone in the gay club accuses Eric of having a beard - this is a term for a woman dating a gay man who's not prepared to admit he's gay (or so I've been led to believe) - i.e. it's something to make him look more masculine. I.e. the guy is suggesting that Eric's gay and Sookie's his beard. Sorry to spell it out, but even my very gay-aware husband didn't get it.**

**Lines from Rocky Horror I've used:**

**"Antici...pation" (the famous way in which Tim Curry as Frank N Furter kept us waiting for the end of the word)**

**"In just seven days, I can make you a man!" (Song lyrics which appear as the slogan on Lafayette's t-shirt. He's not in costume because in my story, he hates Rocky Horror, he's only going because... well... because of reasons that I'm not sharing in an A/N, but he figured that he could probably re-use the t-shirt again later)**

**"Oh don't get strung out by the way I look... but by night I'm one hell of a lover!" (Song lyrics - Frank N Furter sings these - and that is who Eric is dressed as, even though I don't say it specifically, anyone who knows the film/play will recognise the costume he's wearing)**

**The entire lemon scene is Eric and Sookie mocking role-playing a scene from the film/play. Sookie mentions Brad who is the boyfriend of Janet, the character Sookie is dressed as.**

**The last line is again a reference to Rocky Horror, the final song includes the lyrics "Give yourself over to absolute pleasure." And if I was in Sookie's shoes and Eric was offering, I'd do the same - wouldn't you!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N - Another chapter! So soon after the last two! What is the world coming to?**

**A big thank you to Northman Maille & JanOfArc who both helped rid this chapter of some serious 'Post Lemon Blues'.**

**I'm giving you three PoV's in this chapter... sorry if that makes it a bit choppy, but everyone was demanding their say.**

**Disclaimer - these aren't my sheep - They are the property of Farmer Charlaine Harris. **

* * *

**The Souvenir**

**Chapter 15**

The glass dish jangled as his keys hit it and my eyes shot open.

"Back so soon?" I looked at my watch. "Midnight! What is she? A pumpkin?"

I caught the rucksack he threw at me and dropped it beside me on the sofa. "Nails!" I waved the back of my hand at him. "You made it to the hotel room at least; did you even get to Canal Street?" Eric was dressed in the jacket, vest and jeans I'd left for him with Lafayette; it was one thing to be a dirty stop out, but another to do the walk of shame in women's frilly underwear at nine in the morning. Okay, I confess, I had been tempted to forget the clothes and heavily tip the hotel staff for the security tapes, not for blackmail purposes you understand, just for the sheer comedy value.

He massaged his eyebrows in exhaustion; just one of his more endearing little idiosyncrasies that I'd missed. Making his way to the kitchen area, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water; droplets splashed everywhere as he walked away, leaving them to mark the surface. This was one of his _less_ adorable traits, something which I was sure he did just to piss me off and I had basked in the gloriousness of not having to worry about for the last six months.

"Yes, we went to Canal Street, Lafayette chose next door, but it looked from the outside as though you're keeping on top of Clancy – I'm sure you both _love _that." He flopped onto the leather cushions of the couch and sank back with the awe and wonder of a man who'd never felt something so soft.

"We're not talking shop Eric!" He really was hard work sometimes. "So! Hotel room! Details! Do I need to organise Lafayette's bonus to be paid?"

"No bonus." He sipped from his water then slipped into the 'middle distance stare', a look I had never seen on his face and , if I am honest, it freaked me right out.

"You mean you didn't...?" I asked after a short pause, trying to get my head around the bizarre concept that Eric hadn't...

"Nope."

"But you could have?"

"Most certainly."

"Then why...?"

He sipped his water again. He was drawing this out; he could have just told me. Patience might be a virtue, and virtue might be a grace, but the only Grace I like is the curvaceous variety who has her legs wrapped around my shoulders.

"She was drunk. Well..." he measured his words. "Tipsy."

"That's never stopped you before." I couldn't help but look at him in horror. Six months and he'd grown a conscience?

"She's different."

"Medium height, blonde, blue eyed, busty, breathing... No I'd say she's pretty much the same as all the others." You could say this about Eric, he was predictable and it made my life so much easier. I peeked into the rucksack he'd brought back with him and felt my exasperation levels rise. "Shoes, Eric! Where are the shoes? And your wig?"

Rising to his feat, Eric impersonated the Cheshire Cat with a languid stretch and an almost manic grin. "I left them in the hotel room. A little something for her to remember me by." He winked. He never winked! He was making me feel nauseous. "I'm heading back, no point in being a junkie in a methadone clinic if the cabinets are all locked. And no, I haven't had a drink, don't fret yourself Pam. Oh look at your worried face!"

I could have bitten his hand off as he ruffled my hair. If he'd been family I'd have disowned him I told myself, well, if it wasn't for that lovely pay cheque each month.

"I'll let Lafayette know the bad news shall I?" I didn't bother concealing my delight at the prospect. I might have a wager going with some of the others and I was betting in favour of Lafayette, but delivering bad news is a treat not to be passed up!

"He already knows. Sorry to spoil your fun Pam, but I'm sure you'll find some way of rubbing it in."

**.-oOSOo-.**

I woke again to find myself hugging his wig. I was convinced it smelt of him, but in reality it probably just reeked of cheap wig and sweat.

Lafayette's muffled yet dulcet tones eased through the sound of the shower and past the bathroom door. He could carry a tune better than I could, but that doesn't say a lick about his singing abilities. Abba had nothing to fear from my friend and his rendition of "_Money, Money, Money_".

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I breathed in the scent of the wig once more, trying to cling to the memories of the previous night. Whilst I waited for Laf I put the wig in the overnight bag that I borrowed from Sal, along with Eric's shoes.

With one over-washed, hotel-issue towel wrapped around his waist and using another to dry behind his ears, he emerged from a cloud of steam in true showman style.

"Choo gonna tell me about yo night'o'passion now girl? Or over breakfast?"

"Lafayette!" I squealed and threw my pillow at him. "A lady doesn't talk about what happens in the bedroom!"

He sat in front of the mirror and started to lay out his tools. "They's jus' the words of a lady with nothing to tell." he chuckled as he waved a blusher brush at me and raised an eyebrow; at least it would have been raised if it had been penciled on. Seeing Lafayette without his makeup on was like looking at a blank canvas; plain and oddly expressionless. He wasn't an unattractive man, but with his plumped lips and dazzling eyes he stood out, he was him, without it he looked just like any other guy.

"Put your face on and your curiosity away! I'll have my shower, and then I want a good breakfast, I worked up quite an appetite last night." I winked at him over my shoulder as I walked through into the bathroom and bumped the door closed with my bottom.

The mirror was fuzz-streaked from the towel I used to wipe the steam from it, but it reflected my panda-eyes back at me all the same. I'd forgotten to take my makeup off and, although I hadn't looked closely at my pillow, I was sure there was probably an imprint of my powder and oil face on it from the night before. The grin that greeted me was that of the cat that'd got the cream, or rather the girl who got the fabulous, tall, blond hunk, and it wasn't easing up, not even a little bit. I already wanted the day to be over so I could see him at the kitchen table, or catch his eye as he walked into Y Gafr.

It was crazy to think about spending my whole time at the farm, but maybe a few more days wouldn't hurt, and I could always pop in before heading home again. Or who knew? If I asked him, maybe Eric would come with me for the rest of my trip, if Sal would let him take the time off.

What had become of me? Seven days on British soil and I was letting my lust dictate what I did? Lusting after someone, I pointed out to myself quite firmly, who I'd thought was a miserable boot only a few days before. But in all fairness to Eric, once I spent time talking to him, he wasn't all that bad.

**.-oOLOo-.**

The shoes said "We's got mo' walkin' to do yet." And the wig? He had to rub it in that he got to munch rug – the most he can do fo' free without breakin' the terms of my contract. Eric an' he little codes!

My cell beeped wit' a text while I was in the middle o' blendin' my shadow; green, so when I looks in the mirror, and I does like to check myself out (when sexy ain't around choo, reflect it), I can see the color o' money!

"Dear Hooker, no money for you yet! Come back and cook for me. Love you! P x"

That Pam does make a bitch laugh, but the money was in sight.

I lined my eyes to feline perfection and planned on how to help keep Sookie around. She was the big monies. She weren't jus' a lay fo' he ass; she the one I'd be happy to have boss my ass around too.

**.-oOSOo-.**

We walked around Manchester for what seemed like, miles, as Lafayette pointed out this and that. He had a big excitement for the city; something to do with Factory Records and a whole heap of famous bands. I already knew about this because I had been made to sit through 24 Hour Party People by Quinn, back when we were dating. Quinn had had a big thing about movies, especially British ones; I would rather spend my time sat outside or chatting with friends, he would prefer to be inside staring at a screen and not talking.

A couple of stops at coffee shops saved my feet from falling off the ends of my legs, and I was real grateful to them for that. Both times Lafayette tried again to get me to tell him what had gone on between Eric and me, but I was not in the mood for sharing; they were my memories, and I was feeling a mite protective of them.

I'd like to tell you that Manchester is a great place full of interesting things, and it probably is, but other than Afflecks Palace (a strange old building with a grand collection of independent little shops inside – there's even a vampire shop, who knew people liked them so much there would be enough demand for a shop?), I don't really remember much of it. My mind was still stuck in the hotel room, with Eric. I kept clenching my fists, remembering the feel of the sheets in my hands as he pushed me to the edge, time and time again, and held me there. From time to time my tongue would absentmindedly stroke my lips, recalling the touch of his against mine. And every now and again I caught myself stroking my shoulder, where he'd rested his hand as we lay there, curled up on the bed.

Lafayette gave up after a while, and we headed back to the farm.

**.-oOEOo-.**

It wasn't the drive back in the dark that I was cursing myself for, my night vision is good and the roads are generally quite clear, it was because I didn't fall into bed until gone half past one, and I had to be up again at six. Morgan the Car would be dropping Sam off around then and once Sam was back work would start.

I kept a look out all day for her rental car, hoping to see it nip down the lane past me, just so I could know she would be there when I got back, but when they did return I was most likely several fields back from the road.

Exhausted at the end of two long days, I put my head on my pillow at the end of my working day with the intention of enjoying on a ten minute nap; the thought of wasting time that I could be spending with Sookie was galling to me. She might be gone soon, something I was trying very hard to prevent and I wanted to enjoy every second of her company I could command.

When I awoke, a few hours later, I found a plate of something delicious from Lafayette, along with a note to say they were at Y Gafr. Of course they were at Y Gafr, this was a one pub village. Gone are the days when a village could sustain three or four pubs; if a Brit can't enjoy their pint and cigarette in the comfort of a bar, they'll enjoy it in the comfort of their home. Banning smoking in public places might have had some benefits for people's health, but it had killed a lot of businesses.

Her face, more specifically her eyes, lit up when I walked through the door. There are no words to describe what that did to my heart, my soul, and, if I'm honest, my dick.

Chatter hushed as I walked up to her, kissed her lightly and asked if she wanted a drink. Of course they all knew; I'd acted like a club-dragging caveman just a couple of nights before, proving a point to Bill that not everything he wanted was available. But gossip is gossip, and news such as my falling for a pretty American tourist was enough to keep the tittle-tattle going for weeks, possibly months.

I joined her table of companions and turned on the charm, something that was not particularly easy to do with Sookie sat on my knee, her arm draped casually on my shoulder; the urge to pick her up and run off with her there and then was maddening. It felt like forever before she finished her drink and indicated she wanted to go back, and of course I was more than happy to escort her.

The lust took over before we made the first field.

I picked her up, and rested her on the wall; her heels quickly found the middle of my back. Our lips were locked together, hands desperately grasped at hair, skin and clothes. We pulled into each other, wanting to rip away the layers of fabric, but not here, not yet. As she squirmed against me, the tightness of my trousers became almost unbearable and I felt her smile as she purposefully squirmed some more.

As my head fell backwards, her lips traced a line down my chin and neck stopping at the collar of my t-shirt.

"Can I get you back?" she asked, "And get you out of these?" Her tone so sultry, so unlike the innocent creature she appeared to be.

I didn't answer.

Her hands slipped down to my waist and started to undo the buckle on my belt.

I knew I should stop her but the very idea of her fingers easing their way under my boxers, finding me, teasing me, or even her mouth, let alone being able to bury myself between her...

There was the metallic clang of an empty beer barrel behind me; a definite clang that, had it been words, would have said "I saw you!"

Turning my head I caught a glimpse of a very irritated and sulky looking Bill. I turned back to Sookie. The moment was lost, my sense was found, and I readjusted my belt as we both giggled anxiously, like naughty teenagers.

She looked a little annoyed as she hopped off the wall, but smiled took my hand and we took turns pointing out star formations as we strolled back to the farm.

Yes, she really was different.

* * *

**A/N - Manchester - fascinating city with an amazing history, but I confess I've not really visited much of it, other than Canal Street, Afflecks Palace and a few coffee shops. But I'm fairly sure you're all far more interested in memories of Shepherd sex than architecture and museums anyway - I know I am!**

**Eric's little code to Lafayette - to those of you who don't speak English as a first language - wigs are sometimes known as rugs... rug munching is a less delightful term for orally enjoying a woman... **

**Now let's see if we can do something about chapter 16... I feel a bit of an exciting chapter ahead...**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N - Sorry this is a little later than I'd hoped, but still, it's another sheepy instalment... and not delayed by months, so that's something!**

**As always a huge thank you to my beta, Northman Maille, and my oh-so-talented brain-bean-feeder, JanOfArc, without whom this fic would grind to a halt!**

**Disclaimer - These sheep are not mine officer, I was just taking the out for a walk.**

* * *

**The Souvenir**

**Chapter 16**

Damn Bill!

I threw myself on my bed, grabbed my pillow and screamed my frustration into it.

Damn him!

All I wanted was to... I just... I could have...

DAMN HIM!

And damn me too!

This wasn't me, this wasn't Sookie of Bon Temps, or even Sookie of Monroe. This was Adventurous Sookie, 'Go with the flow' Sookie, 'Throw caution and all manner of sense to the wind' Sookie.

Had I lost my mind? I had to keep reminding myself that I didn't know Eric, he was still almost a total stranger to me, but I wanted him. I was salivating for him like a dog over a piece of lamb roasting in the oven; slowly driving the poor mutt's senses insane.

Not that I wanted my first romantic encounter with Eric to be around the back of a local watering hole in amongst old crates and the smell of stale beer; actually I could think of a million and one places I'd rather be. But he'd been there, and so warm, so tempting, so… delicious!

The walk home _had_ been perfectly idyllic (word of the day, one day in May); we talked about nothing and when the nonsense ran out the silence washed over us like a warm sea over sand. We'd only used the stars to light our way back to the farm, pointing out different constellations to one another, most of them weren't even real, or at least mine weren't. Jason and I used to sit on Gran's porch making pictures in the night sky, giving them names for fun, like "the giant pin" and "the basket of fruit". Sailors might not have recognized our patterns, but I'd never forget them.

We reached the farm door. Taking both his hands in mine I drew breath to speak... to ask him to come in.

"Slow." He whispered softly and gently in my ear. "Slow it right down. Don't burn this out..."

His kiss lingered my cheek as he turned and walked off.

He looked back, but he didn't stop, he didn't come back.

Damn Eric. I screamed into my pillow once more.

Damn his manners!

And damn my frustration!

"Two more days!" I muttered to the ghosts of my sex life, resigning myself to two more days on the farm, after that, if nothing had happened, I was moving on.

**.-oOSOo-.**

The daylight was fighting with the darkness when I woke. There were faint noises from the other side of the farm; I could just about pick out Eric's whistles and calls to Sam.

My heart gave a little flutter.

Everything I was feeling, the excitement, the confusion, the lust, the anticipation, everything reminded me of being a hormonally challenged teenager. I wanted to run out there, in my Scottie dog pajama pants and camis, fling my arms around him and have him twirl me round, just like in the movies. But the sensible, grown-up Sookie was telling me that this was just a silly crush that would probably come to nothing; besides he lives in Wales, for now, I live in Louisiana, USA... like that would ever work out.

I popped to the bathroom, tended to my needs and fetched a glass of water.

My teeth played with my lip as I turned my little packet of birth control pills over in my hands. I had been taking them for months, without really needing to, and for the first time in quite a while, I found myself day dreaming of that moment when I'd be glad I hadn't stopped. I pushed a pill out of one of the 'Sunday' blisters and downed it with some water.

Sitting on my bed I flipped open my little netbook, hopped onto Sal's wifi and started searching for somewhere nearby to visit. A few places caught my eye: old castles, market towns, grand houses, etc. I made a note of which ones had youth hostels near them, just in case.

Twitching the curtain across slightly and peeking out of the window I saw the unmistakable shape of a certain blond shepherd making his way along one of the far off fields. Even from this distance, the bounce flight? of his hair against his broad shoulders made me think of the gallant hero from one of my romance novel covers, hair swept aside by a slight gust of wind. But I chuckled to myself when, a second later, he ruined the image for me as he flicked his head like one of the women in those shampoo commercials.

There had been a faint buzz about the farmhouse of people getting up and getting on with their day while I'd been searching the internet, so I wandered off to see if Lafayette had been cooking up anything tasty in the kitchen.

The smell of French toast and fresh coffee hit my nose as I opened my door, and I bounded down the stairs to discuss my options for the day, and possibly the next week, with my friend.

The kitchen was empty, save for a pot of java on the side. My shoulders slumped a little, but I found a mug, filled it, and set off in the direct of some muffled voices.

"You sink 'ee'll take 'er?" Andre asked.

"Oh he have her ass. I's in the money wit' dis one." Lafayette replied, and I stopped in my tracks. I couldn't see them, and I knew I was being rude by listening in, but I had a sudden sick feeling, the type you get when you know that you're being talked about. Who was going to "have my ass"? And what the hell was he talking about money for?

"You are sure of yourself, no?" came Andre's voice again.

"I's played dis game enough. She's a jackpot."

"Doez she know?"

"Sookie? Hell no! You mention a thing mother fucker, choo be regrettin' it, you fuckin' hears me?" My mouth was open as though I was catching flies; I don't think I'd heard Lafayette so aggressive in the time I'd known him, but then I had to question whether I knew him at all.

"If 'ee doesn't have 'er, I 'ave some monies saved up. I take 'er off your 'ands."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I backed away, shaking my head in disbelief. Andre wanted to _buy_ me?

This was a joke. It had to be. Lafayette was going to… to… to… to sell me? He was going to _pimp_ me?

My eyes wide, my breathing erratic, I found myself back in the kitchen. I rested my hands on the table and looked around, my mind racing to all the things he'd done, all the things he'd said, buttering me up so he could whore me?

I fled to my room and began to throw my belongings into my bag.

"You are not staying with us for longer I think?" Sal's voice was soft, and innocent, but she had to be in on it; how could Andre know and she not?

"I'm off, yes. I've just heard an unpleasant conversation and I don't think it's appropriate to stay." Appropriate? Would you just listen to me? Southern manners to the last!

"You are upset?"

Where could I find an award for understatement of the year at this point in time? Upset? Furious? Utterly terrified! They make horror movies out of situations like this one. Stupid American girl, meets up with a stranger who seems so friendly at first, then she's being raped and tortured on a remote farm somewhere.

I threw a t-shirt into the bag. "Tell me what you know." I demanded, my fear gave my voice a hint of authority, which was way better than the hint of 'sobbing at the end of my bed' that I wanted to give into. "Are you in on this? Who is Lafayette's _client_?" I spat the last word.

"I know of 'is arrangement. Is with zee Lord of zee Manor." She nodded slowly while breaking this news to me. She knew! How long had she known? Oh, it probably didn't matter.

"Does anyone else know? Eric, Bill, Car, Meat… anyone?"

"Is jus' us."

"Fine. Are you going to stop me leaving?" Or more importantly, was I going to have to fight to get out? If I had to I could leave with nothing, get to an Embassy and get home. Not the way I wanted to end my vacation, but needs must!

She shook her head "Non. But you need to pay me zee monies for your stay."

The fear drained from me, all that was left was the adrenaline. I grabbed my purse and snatched some notes out of it. There were a few pounds more than I owed, but I was so very much beyond caring.

"Swell, that's just… Swell! Well, if you don't mind, I have to pack." I wanted to be rude, heck I'm sure even Gran would have been spitting boots right about now, but something in me insisted on politeness, even if it was through gritted teeth.

"If I was you, I would not be wearing my pajamas to be driving my car."

"Oh, who's the Lord of the…" I started to ask, but she'd left me to my frantic packing.

**.-oOSOo-.**

The air was heavy and grey when I fled the building. Dressed in jeans, pink t-shirt and a fleece, I hurled my bags into the trunk of my rental car and set off. I'd not bumped into anyone, although I thought I caught a glimpse of Lafayette in the kitchen window as I set off.

My heart was still thumping like a scared rabbit's hind leg as I drove around the small lanes, looking out for Eric or his Land Rover. I wanted to say good bye, I wanted Sal to not be the last person from Llandifiau I spoke to, and I wanted, no, I needed to feel his lips against mine just once more.

I finally succumbed to the weather and turned on my windshield wipers. The rain wasn't heavy, it was fine and it filled the air; that type of rain that soaks you through after a few seconds of standing in it, even though you didn't realize it was raining.

Eventually I spotted his vehicle tucked away on a little muddy patch at the side of the road, and pulled my car up next to it, shaded by some golden leafed trees. I grabbed my water-proof jacket from the back seat, climbed out the car and listened. If felt like forever, trying to work out the direction he'd be in, the thick mist dampening (no pun intended) every possible sound; I eventually look a guess and started walking.

By the time I reached him water was dripping off the hood of my jacket, but he grinned at the sight of me, as though I was as welcome as a cup of steaming hot tea.

"Sookie! What brings you out here?"

I wasn't sure I was ready to tell him. If he didn't know he sure as heck wasn't going to believe such an odd story as the one I had lined up. So I told him the other truth. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

His grin widened. A grin such as this one would knock the Cheshire cat off his throne for 'King of the grin' and steal his crown.

I was too lost in his satisfied expression to notice it was getting closer and closer towards me until I felt the warm moisture of his breath against my cold, damp cheek. His brilliant blue eyes questioned me, but I couldn't answer in words.

His lips were on mine within a blink of my droplet laden lashes. I hoped my anxiety, my fear, my frustration would all pass through that kiss, but instead I found other emotions: need, lust, passion. My hands grasped at him, slipping on his wet jacket, and something in me snapped.

All that adrenaline, that pent up emotion, I needed a release.

I pulled back from him and started to franticly undo his jacket. For a moment he was caught off guard, maybe he even wanted to let me, but then he took hold of my wrist.

"Sookie, stop. Don't… Do you really want this?" He waved his hand about us, indicating the weather, the mud, the sheep… "How about I cook for you later? I'm not as good as Lafayette, but I make a mean beans on toast… I'll even grate cheese on it." He waggled an eyebrow. Grated cheese, the height of culinary perfection…

I tried to smile by my heart was heavy. "What if I wasn't here later Eric? What if I'd gone?"

"Then I'd miss your eyes, your smile, your hair, your fantastic tits… I'll be honest Sookie, I'd be somewhat gutted." He paused. His eyes quizzed me again. "Why? What are you saying? Are you off?"

I couldn't answer him, not directly. He was beginning to look anxious, hurt even. "I'm not sure I can stay on the farm forever, Eric. I'm only in the U.K. for a couple more weeks."

A small cloud of breath was let out as he sighed. "Are you going somewhere nice today?"

Pleasant conversation. Ouch.

"I was thinking Shropshire, I saw some lovely looking sites to visit – so I was going to drive and see where the road took me." It wasn't a lie, not exactly; I just didn't tell him the bit about not coming back. "Hey! You could come with me if you like. My car's not big, but I'm sure you could fold into it."

"I have to work." He waved his hand around again, like he was King of all he surveyed. "But come round to my little cottage. I defy anyone to make beans on toast better than I can. I'll even try not to burn the toast!"

I smiled at him, and let out a small uncomfortable laugh.

"It's a date." I replied. I wasn't lying, it was a date, but it was a date I wouldn't be attending. A date I wouldn't be enjoying, giggling at his inability to cook canned beans. A date I wouldn't be ending wrapped in his arms, curled up under a blanket in a post coital bliss.

"Catch you later." He called after me, but I'd already begun to walk away.

I didn't look back.

**.-oOSOo-.**

I drove for maybe thirty or forty minutes before I had to stop the car at the side of the road.

I opened the door.

I leaned out.

I retched.

A mixture of coffee and stomach juices splattered the grit at the side of the road.

* * *

**A/N - Sorry! Please don't hate me! Next chapter explains a LOT more, I promise!**

**English Cultural Reference: Lord of the Manor. This is a title, along with a few others, that can be bought. It does not entitle you to sit in the House of Lords, it's not the same as being a 'Lord'... On occasions being a Lord of the Manor may require you to maintain the state of local side-walks, or communal areas, or some such similar things, but on the whole, it's just a title. Wikipedia has a relatively good article on it if you're interested.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N Thanks to Northman Maille (fastest beta in the west!) and Jan of Arc (who is no longer a member of FFn - but please do go to LJ to read her work! She's fab!)**

**There is a translation of Lafayette's PoV at the bottom of this fic for anyone who struggles with it.**

**Disclaimer: Not my sheep M'lud. I'm not rustling, I'm just borrowing them from Ms Harris for a spell.**

* * *

**The Souvenir**

**Chapter 17**

I stepped up the bakin' that mornin'; way to anyone's heart 'ee through they stomach, not just a man's.

We was out o' eggs, so I left Sookie's French toast warmin' in the oven and went to stick my hand under some o' they broody hens.

'Fore I got much further than the kitchen door I got cornered by everyone' favorite rat.

"You sink 'ee'll take 'er?" Andre hissed at me.

"Oh he have her ass. I's in the money wit' dis one." I weren't in no mood for his shit, but I had found me a prize jewel and I jus' had to rub he face in it.

"You are sure of yourself, no?"

"I's played dis game enough. She's a jackpot."

"Doez she know?"

"Sookie? Hell no! You mention a thing mother fucker, choo be regrettin' it, you fuckin' hears me?" How does you say to a girl you gets a bonus if yo' boss likes her ass? That you get a real nice bonus if he dates her ass, and you can fuckin' retire if he marries her? Of course that little bit of info was strictly need to know, and she don't need to know! Not yet. And not from fuckin' Andre.

"If 'ee doesn't have 'er, I 'ave some monies saved up. I take 'er off your 'ands."

"Fuck you! She ain't no hooker and I ain't no fuckin' pimp!" Okay, it look bad, I can see 'dis, but it's my contract, it all our contracts, I jus' the only one who give a shit about the bitch who'll be givin' me my orders. Wouldn't choo make an effort to choose yo' bosses wife if you could?

"You sink we can be paid for finding the bed friends for Eric and _not_ 'ave zee name of pimp? Appius had zee sense of 'umour I sink."

"I ain't no fuckin' pimp." I don't look for no '_bed friends_', I never has. "And Sookie ain't no fuckin' bitch. She a _real_ nice girl, she make him relax and mo' talkative than a lil' girl; she'll make he heart happy, and that why I ain't no pimp, _fucker_!"

.**-oOEOo-.**

I watched her walk away.

"Look back at me! Look back at _me_!" I commanded quietly, but she kept on walking.

I could have run after her but there was something wrong, something she wasn't telling me. I recounted my steps from the night before and was sure I'd done nothing to put her off. Yes, I was guilty of causing us both frustration, I could concede that much, but nothing to turn her away.

My sigh misted in the cool, damp air for a brief second, then was nothing more than a memory. In that brief moment I knew that whatever damage had been done, I would undo it.

**.-oOSOo-.**

Arriving at the youth hostel just outside Much Wenlock, the weather was still quite grey, but at least it was dry. I had a small, four person dorm room to myself, but it was early in the day and I knew it might be full when I got back, so I claimed one of the lower-level bunk beds with a bedroll and my pajamas, and shuffled my bag underneath it.

I brushed my teeth in an attempted to rid my mouth of that horrid feeling you have after being sick, but my insides ached which just continued to remind my body of the experience. I wanted to curl up and cry, but it was big-girl-panties time. I needed some happy memories to wipe out the bad ones, so I put my valuables in my big purse and set out on a mini, weirdo-free adventure. At least I hoped so.

**.-oOEOo-.**

Each one of them looked at me with a blank expression that spoke of guilt. They had, no doubt, discussed the happenings of the morning. If they had had no hand in it they must have known she was gone and from their slumped shoulders and uncomfortable shuffles, nothing had been done. I was under no delusions that they had discussed their stories, and there would be no inconsistencies, but there would be a good proportion of blame and finger pointing.

"Phone" I commanded, holding my hand out. They all reached into one pocket or another, but I took Lafayette's; his was the most likely to get a warm reception. "We will discuss this once I've made a call, but first, tell me, does she think badly of _me_?"

Lafayette shook his head, but it was Sal that spoke. "She does not know you are part of zis."

Well thank fuck for that.

I searched through Lafayette's contacts and hit 'call'.

"Good news or bad?" she asked.

"How do you fancy a trip to theatre?" I turned my back to my audience. They could hear my pain, but I did not want them to see it too.

"That would be bad then I take it. Stratford?" Pam was always one step ahead; I didn't deserve her.

"That would be my guess too, from what she's said. I'm guessing she'll be there tomorrow – she mentioned Shropshire for today. Iron Bridge do you think?"

"Does it matter? I'll call her and discuss. Am I playing the interested friend or the co-conspirator?" she asked me. I looked to Lafayette whose bat-like ears were probably picking up every syllable Pam uttered. He mouthed "friend" at me.

"She might not trust you 100%, but does doesn't know that you know."

"Fine, leave it to me to tidy up your mess. Again." And with that she ended the call.

I threw Lafayette's phone at him, which he caught two handed, his elbows resting, defeated, on his knees, his head slightly bowed.

"So, who said what? Why? When? And, most importantly," and it was then my calm vanished, my face reddened, my temperature rose and anger flowed through me like molten lead. "WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?"

My blood pressure was almost certainly through the roof. Dr Ludwig would have been asking what she was paid for if she could have seen me at that moment; following orders just didn't seem to work for me.

**.-oOSOo-.**

The youth hostel I was staying in was a real nice old English manor house, and lots of the old features had been kept; it almost felt like I was in one of those period dramas you see on PBS or BBC America, but without everyone walking around in big dresses of course.

Much Wenlock was a small drive away, and quite sleepy; I hadn't counted on so many places being closed on a Sunday. I did find some quirky pottery shops though, and found a lovely little pot for Gran that would look super with some pale pink or white roses growing out of it. The folks who ran the shop were more than happy to have it shipped for me, which took away all the worry I had about breaking it on the trip home.

The pub that served me lunch and a coke seemed nice, but not homely. I sat at the window, alone, already missing my friends, wondering if they'd miss me too or if it was really all one big joke and everyone was part of it save little old me. I could only face a chicken salad, my stomach still churning from all that had gone before. Even that was a struggle to actually eat; and not just shuffle the leaves and meat around my plate.

I tried not to think on it, but an image of this 'Lord of the Manor came to me as some old guy whose hair had run away from the liver spots on his head and found shelter in his nose and ears. A lop-sided, yet leering, grin on his face as he pictured all the nasty things he had paid to do to me.

I sipped some coke in the hope it would stop me from retching again, and sighed.

A cell nearby chirped with a text, and I wondered if it might be mine. Only three people had my number, which limited the chances to prettyslim, but I figured Lafayette might try and contact me, and if it was him; I wanted to rip that band-aid off as quickly as possible.

"So did you leave yet Little Miss Sunshine? I'm in Stratford with a spare, free ticket to the theatre tomorrow night. Call me! P x"

My stomach flipped as a wave of mistrust washed over me.

Pam was friends with Lafayette, she sent me with him to Wales; almost insisted I went actually… What if… what if… what if this was some sort of trap? What if Lafayette would be laying in wait for me in Stratford to take me back? Would Eric be on hand to rescue me, yet again, back at the farm? Would I even make it to Wales?

It had been my plan to go to Stratford the following day though, and a ticket to the theatre was something I was hoping to get my hands on. Was this all too convenient? Or perfect timing?

The theatre would be a public place; I reasoned that it should be fairly safe there with plenty of people around. My stomach flip-flopped.

But then what if I was being overly cautious? What if Pam knew nothing of Lafayette's plans? What if she was just being nice like she'd been in London? I had told her I was planning on leaving the farm only a few days earlier, and we had discussed Stratford, so there was always the chance that it was amazing coincidence and nothing to worry about at all.

I didn't respond straight away.

After finishing up my salad I continued to mosey around the town, thinking on my little conundrum (word of the day, don't ask me when) from time to time.

It wasn't until I was back in my dorm room snuggled under my comforter, reading my romance novel that I finally pulled my cell phone out and replied to Pam's text.

"Thanks, that would be swell. What time does the play start?"

**.-oOEOo-.**

Lafayette silently handed over his mobile phone. His hands slid into his pockets, his shoulders slumped. I was unsure if he was sorry because he might have lost out on money, or sorry because he genuinely liked her. I was feeling charitable enough to believe it was the latter.

"The seagull flies at midnight!"

I laughed loud and heartily. Trust Pam to cheer me up.

"It seems as though Pam's made contact." I said, putting the phone on the table. "If you weren't such a bloody good chef I'd have been tempted to fire your arse for being such a prick. Next time I suggest you don't rise to Andre's baiting."

Later, my pillow felt like a chilled lump of concrete as I laid my head on it, the events of the day swirled around my head. Sookie's anxious expressions as she said goodbye haunted me; what fear and frustration she must have felt! The anger began to build and I tried to remember the relaxing techniques Dr Ludwig had taught me. I pictured the perfect day: we were relaxed, her hair shone in the brilliant sunlight, I picked a buttercup and held it under her chin. She was laughing and smiling, and I was the cause. My sweetest dreams are made of this.

* * *

Translation of Lafayette's PoV:

I started to bake much more that morning; way to anyone's heart is through their stomach, it's true for women as well as men.

We had run out of eggs, so I left Sookie's French toast to warm in the oven and went to fetch some from the hen house.

Before I managed to get much further than the kitchen door I was stopped by everyone's favorite rat.

"Do You think he'll take her?" Andre hissed at me.

"Oh he'll have her. I'm in the money with this one." I wasn't in the mood for his shit, but I had found me a prize jewel and I just had to rub his face in it.

"You are sure of yourself, aren't you!"

"I've played this games enough to know that she's a winner."

"Does she know?"

"Sookie? Hell no! You mention a thing mother fucker and you'll regret it, you understand me?" How do you explain to a girl that you'll get a bonus if your boss likes her enough to sleep with her? That you get an even nicer bonus if they date, and a significant amount of money if they marry? All of it was 'need to know' - and she didn't need to know! Not yet. And if she was going to learn about it, hearing it from Andre would not go down well.

"If he doesn't want her, I've got some money saved up. I'll take her off your hands."

"Fuck you! She's no whore and I'm no pimp!" Okay, it doesn't look good, I understand this, but it's written in my contract, it's written in everyone's contract, I'm just the only one who cares who he takes his orders from. Wouldn't you make an effort to choose your boss's wife if you could?

"You think we can get paid for finding bed fellows for Eric and not take on the title of pimp? Appius had a sense of humour."

"I'm no fucking pimp." I don't look for '_bed fellows_', I never have. "And Sookie is no bitch. She a _really_ nice girl, she makes him relaxed and chatty; she'll make his heart sing, and that's why I'm no pimp, _fucker_!"

* * *

**A/N - Much Wenlock is home of the modern Olypmics. It's a very sweet market town, judging from the pictures, and I plan on going there at some point... I confess I've never been. I chose it for Sookie because it's got a really lovely youth hostel near by, and that's as good a reason as any I figure. (it's how I used to youth hostel)**

**Pam's text to Eric about seagull's flying at midnight - it's a nonsensical joke, which I may explain a little more in later chapters - it's not a hint about things to come.**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N - As always a big big thank you to Northman Maille and JanOfArc (now on LJ - go read her Breaking Down the Walls fic - I loves it!) for their beta'ing and beans respectively**

**Disclaimer - I'm not sheep rustling m'lud. I fully intend to return them to their rightful owner, Ms Charlaine Harris, after they've been out to pasture for a spell. *doffs cap***

* * *

**The Souvenir**

**Chapter 18**

Sipping my Malbec, waiting for Miss Sunshine, I mused over how to handle the whole situation. I checked my watch again and waved the waiter away when he tried to take my order for the fourth time in eight minutes, despite my insistence that I was awaiting company. If he'd been my staff I'd have been having words with him about over-enthusiasm; those would have been 'calm', 'down', 'the' and 'fuck', but not necessarily in that order.

"Sorry I'm so late" she said, slightly out of breath, as she hurried to sit down. Her appearance was a little dishevelled in her grey jacket, white t-shirt and jeans; all crumpled from being worn in a car for too long, as though she'd dropped her bags off at her accommodation then rushed back out to meet me, without stopping to change. She benefitted from the fresh face of one who never needed make-up, maybe just a little lip-balm; makes one sick, it really does. "It's been a tight schedule today. Did you order?"

I shook my head. "No, but I have chosen, so when you're ready... some wine?"

Sookie refused. "I'll just have water, thank you," her voice harsh with mistrust. Sensible girl. "So why are you in Stratford when I _know_ the RSC performs shows in London?"

I finished my mouthful of wine with a slight 'mnn' and waved my glass nonchalantly. A bright cookie this one_._ "I was treating a pretty Lithuanian to a mini-break, sadly she let me down. Shame really, she had nice thighs, I was looking forward to getting to know them better. I'm so _glad_ you could join me, it's a shame to waste good theatre."

She raised an eyebrow, just as Eric would have at my bullshit and I found it so unbearably hard not to laugh. A couple of days and she'd picked up some mannerisms; how _utterly_ _adorable_.

"Oh fine!" I huffed, a little exasperated. "Lafayette called me. There was concern that you'd run away and you were in trouble." Her face contorted into an expression of horror, anger, humour and irritation; a cathedral gargoyle could not have done better. "Oh don't fret your pretty head; I'm not kidnapping you to send you back. I wanted to make sure you were okay. You are okay aren't you?"

"Other than learning my new friend is a pimp and I was going to be sold as a sex slave to some fat and bald member of the aristocracy, _and_ leaving behind... oh never mind... Yes, I'm _fine_!" Her tone sent my sarcasm detector off the charts.

I laughed; possibly the wrong response judging from her face. A couple of sips of wine between my cackles helped me calm down. "That's the funniest thing I've heard all week! Pimp? How delicious! Who told you that?"

Confused and hurt she clearly started to question what had been said and what she'd heard; her own self doubt was beginning to do my work for me.

"Well Sal, that's the owner of the farm, said that the Lord of the Manor, whoever that was, would pay Lafayette if I slept with him. That sounds like a pimp/whore deal to me."

I sipped my wine, giving her a natural pause to think. "And you believed Sal? Did you find her trustworthy?"

"She only told me this after I'd heard Lafayette talking to her brother about selling me."

"And you heard the whole conversation? Between Laf and this brother?"

"Errr..." She bit her bottom lip and I could almost see the wheels of cognition turning. This was going to be so much easier than I thought it would be.

"Okay, let's order, then I'll clear a few things up sweetie, because things are not what they seem."

After his initial gush of enthusiasm, the size of our waiter's tip continued to dwindle as he feigned ignorance at our beckoning. Sloppy! Very sloppy. Eventually our orders were placed, glasses refilled and moods lightened.

"Right my dear, firstly, I wouldn't trust Sal as far as I could throw her, and since I didn't excel at shot-put at school, I can assure you that isn't very far. And there's a reason our boss has her working in the arse end of nowhere."

I paused for a second to let the penny drop. I could almost hear the clink when her eyes finally widened. "Is that how Lafayette knows her? You introduced them?" She asked.

I threw my head back and cackled. Heads snapped to witness the commotion; we Brits might pretend to be uninterested in other people's affairs, parents telling our children not to look and point, but we are just as nosy as all the other sheep out there, and we _love_ a good show.

"No. Lafayette works for us too. I can see you panicking, so stop it. When Lafayette and I originally signed our contracts there was a little sub-clause. If we happened to find a young lady that the boss's son took a shine to, we'd receive a bonus. Our boss was very worried his son batted for the other team and was keen that a suitable wife should be found. If you take the money out of the equation it's quite cute really."

Sookie was not looking too impressed.

"How many fairy tales did you read as a child where an award was offered for a handsome Prince to marry the King's daughter? Didn't you think it was romantic when the Princess was swept off her feet and fell in love with the dashing young man? How is this any different?" I asked; my tone a little more abrasive than normal. I don't mind people being dense; well actually I do, but I'm used to it. What I have a serious objection to is people being unbearably stupid and harbouring double standards. So it's fine for the Princess, but not the Prince? Equality, people! Equality!

Our starters arrived, which provided a much needed lull in our little "show and tell" session. I could see that Sookie had not yet twigged to the identity of our 'handsome Prince', and my finely tuned Dear-Deidre-o'meter was hovering over "not your news to tell".

I looked up from my baked apple and black pudding tower to see Sookie pushing her pâté around her plate.

"Not hungry?" I asked.

"No, I am, it's just... My stomach's a bit funny," she said, bravely taking the step of spreading the pâté on some toast and taking a bite.

"You're not going to tell me you let some country bumpkin have his wicked way with you and now you're in the family way are you?" I knew there was little chance of this. Eric would have told me if he'd 'got his end away', and even if he had, morning sickness this quickly would be a miracle.

I tried not to take delight in her anger at my insinuations.

"I'm not reacting well to the shock of the last few days is all."

My sympathy gland doesn't function very well, but it can be made to work on occasions. I patted her hand and gave her noncommittal "there, there" noises. It seemed to help a bit.

"So now you know, Lafayette's not a pimp, you're not in danger of being sold into the sex slave trade and the intended young man is, in fact, neither a member of the aristocracy, nor fat or bald. No one's going to make you go back, so unless you have any further questions; I suggest we enjoy our dinner and the play., Tomorrow I can show you Stratford Upon Avon." Sookie nodded in agreement with my suggestions. "I'm sure Lafayette would _love_ to know you're okay. Did you want to text him yourself? Or shall I do it?"

She closed her eyes and appeared to mentally pull up her big girl knickers. Letting out a determined sigh she said: "I should probably do it myself, but I'm really not sure I want to talk to him. I know you what you've said, but I can't help feeling hurt. Would you mind?"

I shook my head. "It will be my pleasure." I told her. I picked up my mobile, which was sitting on my napkin, and started to text. "Sookie's. Safe. In. Stratford. With. Me. And. She's. Going. To. Carry. On. Her Journey. The. Day. After. Tomorrow." I said, stiltedly as I typed in each work. "Did you want me to say anything else?"

Sookie bit her bottom lip. "Sure. This won't all mean much to you, but can you add: 'Thanks for the start of my trip, and please tell Eric I'm sorry and I miss him.'"

"This _is_ a long text!" I said, finishing it off, skirting around the subject of our handsome Prince. "Good job I never use all my free ones."

**.-oOEOo-.**

I was sat on the bentwood chair in the dark kitchen area of my little cottage; the late and clouded, September light casting long grey shadows across the peeling paint of the table and my newspaper. The articles in _Farmer's Weekly_ rarely give many inches to the effect of terrorism on the capital, but if you want to know the effect it has on the price of cattle and sheep at market, this is the read for you.

There was a knock on the door.

"It's open." I called.

Lafayette walked in with a covered plate and a mobile phone perched on top.

I took both, read the text and smiled at him. "Thanks." I handed the phone back. "I appreciate it."

He nodded, raised his eyebrows in a way that covered many different emotions and left. It was unlike him to not have anything to say about a subject, but there is the _very_ occasional instance when even _he_ knows it's best to say nothing at all.

I worked out my timings. It was Monday, and if she wasn't leaving Stratford until Wednesday morning, I could sort out cover tonight, do my chores in the morning, and be there to surprise her for dinner. Then on Wednesday I could take her on a whistle stop tour of some of England's finest locations; I was already planning a list in my head. There was no point in getting Pam to make reservations for dinner; I knew of several restaurants that would fit me in, not that Tuesdays were ever that busy.

"Tomorrow, Miss Stackhouse, I shall hold you in my arms again." The thought filled me with warmth, and I set about the task ahead.

* * *

**A/N - Okay, Sookie doesn't talk about it, mostly because she wanted to know what was going on (as you all did I'm sure) but during the day, prior to meeting up with Pam, she went to the Iron Bridge Gorge Museum. It's a wonderful living history museum that focuses on life in the Victorian period and industrial revolution. When I went, many years ago, you could buy old money and exchange it in the shops for goods which was very confusing - old British money was not the straight forward pounds and pence (100 pence to the pound) that it is today, but pounds, shillings and pence (12 pence to a shilling, 20 shillings to a pound, making it 240 pence to the pound... confused? Me too!)**

**In other news, I'm writing entries for the I Write the Songs contest, so while I will try not to let this fiction slip as it did last time I was entering a competition, I apologise in advance if my updating gets somewhat slow.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Many thanks to Northman Maille - beta supreme!**

**Disclaimer - these are not my sheep. I will put them back in the barn when they've finished grazing. Charlaine Harris owns these sheep.**

* * *

**The Souvenir**

**Chapter 19**

"What do you mean, "She's not here"? I'm getting royally sick of hearing those words!"

"Okay, I'll phrase it for you differently: She's gone. She left. She departed prior to the expected hour. Her desire to vacate the town was greater than I anticipated. Her residency here has ceased; she is an ex-visitor. Want me to go on?" Pam asked, one hand resting on her hip, the other by her side.

"Please don't." I sighed. "When? And where did she go? Do you know?"

Pam shook her head. She had chosen her clothes that morning to fit in with the "I'm a tourist" theme; she was wearing a pink and black 'Kiss Me Kate' t-shirt, no doubt bought from the theatre shop the night before, with a pair of black slacks and comfortable, yet highly stylish, shoes. The t-shirt lifted my mood a little, it was so very anti-Pam, and yet so perfect for her.

I snapped my mind back to the conversations I'd had with Sookie and the places she wanted to go. "Okay, places she and I discussed: Oxford, Birmingham, Bath, Bristol. Hmm, too many B's. I'm thinking Oxford."

"Then you're a fool. You always have had problems reading a real woman's mind. I'd put my money on Birmingham." Pam replied. "We discussed it last night; it will be fresh in her thoughts, plus it's the logical choice – she'll go north before she goes south again to get her flight. She might have been naive, but she's not stupid."

I nodded. I had to bow to Pam when it came to reading people; she had me down to a pat and the rest of the world too, for the most part. "Birmingham it is then. Keys!" I commanded, holding out my hand.

Pam laughed maniacally. "You want me to hand over your baby? Just like that? I don't think so!" She dangled the keys temptingly in front of me.

I snatched at them, but she was too quick, and, aided by her sensibly flat shoes, she fled to the other side of the car. My gaze dropped to the well, polished bonnet of my girl; the only one I'd ever caressed so lovingly, so longingly, so hungrily, until Sookie came along. Pam had nearly had an orgasm right there in front of me the day I told her she was looking after my MG, for the duration of my time out; the expression on her face had done nothing for my state of mind at the time, but it seemed now as though Pam was taking good care of my girl, and not had her re-sprayed pink as I'd initially feared. A 1959 MG A 1600 might look fine in pink, but my reputation's sullied enough, without adding that to it.

"The keys Pam. Now! You can come with me if you must, but I do not ride shot gun in my own car!"

"Fine!" Pam tossed the keys to me. My heart raced briefly at the image of keyed paintwork, but my reflexes were sharp and I grabbed them out of the air. "I'm going to have to do the ring round anyway. Why can you never do things the easy way? I swear you are trying to turn me into a dribbling mess too, just so you can have a friend over on Cold Comfort Farm." She said, sliding into the passenger seat.

"It's actually very peaceful you know." I replied; the hint of defensive I peppered my sentence with was possibly a little over-powering.

"So say you! You and your bloody sheep!" She took her mobile out of her cream handbag. "India? Oh good, someone with a brain, do me a favour and text me all the numbers you can find for youth hostels in and around your neck of the woods will you darling? And what are you up to tonight?"

I shook my head in amusement. I'd tried to encourage Pam not to sleep with the staff, but India seemed to be a temptation even Pam could not resist, and I hoped to goodness it wouldn't bite me on the bum as badly as my own 'office romances'. India ran a tight ship in the Midlands, it was one of my more profitable areas; far less competition than in Manchester or Brighton.

**.-oOSOo-.**

_The night before..._

I parted ways with Pam after the play, _Love's Labour's Lost_, promising to meet up at one of the coffee shops in the morning and then on to Shakespeare's Birthplace. The comedy had been real good, nothing like I had expected; although the words were all 'old English', the way the actors said them made perfect sense, like they shouldn't be said any other way. The ending left me wanting more, I hate seeing the hero and heroine parted at the end of a story with only the hope that they'll be reunited.

The youth hostel was called Hemmingford House and even in the dark it was beautiful and imposing. I was kicking myself for not calling ahead to book a bed when I got there and saw how full it was, but thankfully there was just enough space for little ol' me.

My eyes were heavy as I made my way to my dorm room and dropped my bags at the foot of the bed. Someone had already claimed the bottom bunk, so it was a ladder climb for me.

The door cracked open as I was putting my bedding out and a tall, slender woman, about my age, slinked in. Her movements were awkward, despite her graceful figure, and her smile gawky, in spite of her elegant face.

"Hey," I said, putting on my best, warm smile; not wanting to be rude. "I'm Sookie."

"Amelia," She replied, returning the smile. "You don't mind," her eye lids fluttered rapidly as her sentence found an unnatural pause. "You don't mind having the top…." again she stopped. "Bunk?"

I shook my head. "Not at all. Just so you know, I don't snore."

We chuckled.

"Me neither. I have beer. You want one?" She asked

"Sure! Why not!"

I finished laying out my bedding and we headed off to the lounge area where Amelia introduced me to a few other people, including the guy who ran the hostel, Little Jim. They had known each other from university, he told me, where there had been several Jims, and he just happened to be the shortest. That must be awful, going through life "as Little Jim" when there are no other Jim's around, just because once, a very long time ago, you were slightly shorter than someone else. I kind of felt sorry for him, until he started leching after me; at which point I quickly moved closer to Amelia and struck up a friendship with my bunk mate.

She seemed real sweet, though I reminded myself that I'd fallen for that act once before. I had to mentally slap myself for my mistrust, after all, there were many nice people out there, and after the number of people I'd met so far, the odds were for Amelia being one of them. She told me about her Art degree. Her enthusiasm for it made her face shine so perfectly, I felt a slight twinge of jealousy; to have that much love and passion for something is a thing I've always admired, but never quite achieved.

We finished up our beer and headed back to the dorm. It was a room for two, so thankfully we weren't disturbing anyone with our constant prattle. Every now and again our conversation was interrupted by Amelia's speech impediment, it was like a stutter, but not, and only really seemed to affect us when she was anxious, or thinking real hard. Part of me wanted to ask her about it, but I figured that would be rude; if she wanted to share, she would.

The conversation turned to my vacation, and I couldn't help but share the strange happenings with her. Telling it made it sound even crazier than it had been, and Amelia gasped and cheered in all the right places.

"And so I'm here. I'm meeting up with Pam tomorrow, but other than that, I'm foot loose and fancy free." I said as I came to the conclusion of my tale.

"So you've gone through… through… through all this. And you're… you're going to meet… meet… meet up with someone who's ad… mitted she knew what was going on? And didn't warn you?" Amelia asked, her eyes fluttering each time she paused.

I was sat cross-legged on the floor in my pajamas. My mind raced. She was completely right. What was I doing? Agreeing to meet up with her was possibly giving Lafayette, or someone else, the chance to come and grab me. Pam had admitted that the clause was also in her contract. But at the same time, why me? What was so special about me that would make her go to that sort of trouble? My mouth opened and closed several times as I tried to find words.

"Good fish impression." Amelia laughed and shook me out of my thoughts.

"Thanks, I've been practicing." I chuckled.

My shoulders slumped. I sighed.

"Look, there's other old houses round here to see. Anne Hathaway's Cottage is nice, go there. It's got the… added bonus of being _outside_ the town centre, so you won't bump into your supposed friend. Then just go."

I thought on her advice. It made sense, it was a shame I wouldn't get to properly look round the town, but there were other places to go, other things to see. I quite wanted to go to Birmingham, Pam had been so passionate about the place. I remembered laughing with her as she told me about studying there; her face was deadpan as she'd told me she'd studied "social housing" because she thought she "wanted to make a difference to society", and the slight hint of a smile when she coldly told me she'd been wrong.

It dawned on me that I really did _want_ to meet up with Pam, that despite the potential risk to my own safety, I liked her. But sense won out and I knew that Birmingham couldn't be my next destination; if she was looking for me, it would be where she'd head to. Not that she'd find me, I guessed; Birmingham was meant to be a big place, but it wasn't worth the risk.

"Any thoughts on where I should go next?" I asked.

"Well I'm off to Matlock tomorrow, that's in Derbyshire, and there's a lovely area near there called Matlock Bath. It's got a cable car. Good fun if you've never been on one." She said, her excitement removing all hints of her stutter.

"Hmm. Fancy a lift?" I was probably making another big mistake, but then, maybe not. She hadn't asked, this was my choice, completely my choice.

"Sure! That'd be great. I'm going… home after that though, so there's no worry about me tr…ying to drag you to the arse end of nowhere." Amelia giggled. "And I have always wanted to see Anne Hathaway's place."

"Sounds perfect to me!"

I climbed into my bunk, and fell asleep.

**.-oOEOo-.**

"Nothing?"

India shook her head, the light soaking into the short bristles of her crew-cut. "If she's in Brum, she's not checked into a hostel, or any of the low budget hotels I tried. Sorry boss."

I collapsed into one of the newly upholstered benches, my elbows found the stickiest parts of the table, and I buried my head in my hands.

That was that then. There was no chance she'd answer her phone to Lafayette or Pam, or anyone for that matter, and she could be literally anywhere.

Pam's phone rang. She looked at it with utter distain. "Guh! My shag from two nights ago. Excuse me while I get rid of her." She turned her back to us and put the phone to her ear.

"Amelia! Darling! How are you?" Pam was a cold hearted cow, for which I loved her, but when it came to her constant string of women she was an utter lothario. "Uh'uh. Well I'm not sure. Maybe in a couple of weeks. Y'huh. No, look, I've really got to go, I'm... sorry, what? Your new friend? You're where? Oh really? Well that's _very_ interesting. Okay, yes, of course. I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow then."

Pam ended the call and turned to me. "You're one lucky bastard Eric!"

* * *

**A/N **

Love's Labour's Lost - one of Shakespear's comedies - one of my favourite plays, after the Tempest.

Stratford Upon Avon - a beautiful town, a must see place for any tourist - lots of houses etc. to visit.

Amelia - Not the Amelia you'll know from the books. This is because she's based on a very lovely woman I used to know whose body was, sadly, found washed up on the banks of a river a couple of years ago. She was a very firm friend who would do anything for those she loved, but wouldn't think twice about double crossing someone she barely knew if she thought it'd get her a night of passion. Miss you honey xx


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N It's been *counts fingers and toes* a long time since I last updated and I am truly, deeply sorry! I make no excuse other than being rather rubbish!**

**This latest instalment has been beta'd by the wonderful NorthmanMaille - any mistakes are hers! ;o) (Just kidding! Don't hit me! OUCH!)**

**I strongly suggest anyone who's come back to read this catches up on what happened in previous chapters - I had to before I started writing again.**

**Disclaimer - these are not my sheep, just making sure they get fed and watered.**

* * *

The Souvenir

Chapter 20

"Do you have your ticket?"

"I bought it two hours ago. Yes. I have my ticket." I replied.

"And the books I gave you?"

"Yes! Not that I need them; it'll take 10 minutes, if that." was my exasperated response.

"Have you decided how you're going to explain your coincidental appearance?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you doubt my performance skills? You know ad-lib is my forte!" I said with aplomb and a dramatic flourish of the hand.

"Do you need any food?"

"Will you quit fussing, woman! What is it with you? Do you want to spit on a tissue and clean my left-over-lunch off my face too?" I asked her; amused and bemused all in one breath.

Pam smiled at me, not a normal reaction from her, but everyone is allowed to be utterly out of character from time to time. I put her fussing down to a combination of hormones, satisfaction and anticipation. The "quest" to find a woman who sparked my interest for anything more a quick fumble between the sheets (or on the desk, or behind the cinema, or in the back of a car, or anywhere really) had been going on for almost as long as Pam and I had known one another. My father _had_ hoped she might be the one. He had strongly approved of Pam, and in turn she'd been very fond of him, but no matter how long my hair was, I had the _wrong equipment_ as far as she was concerned and that was that. Pam had long given up on the idea of there ever being a Mrs Northman, and the very fact that I was willing to put some effort into this little charade was causing her more than a little excitement.

Not that she would ever admit it mind you.

"Fine! But if you fuck up again, do NOT coming running to me to solve it for you. If you lose sight of your prize once more, do us all a favour and accept fate is telling you to give up."

_There's my Pam!_ I thought as the corner of my mouth curled upwards. "Never." I winked and pulled her into a bear hug.

She reciprocated at first and then pushed me away. "Oh just get on the damn train!"

"Amelia meeting you in Derby?" I asked her.

She nodded and shooed me away. I stepped onto the train and found a seat. Settling down into the well-worn upholstery I started to consider exactly what I _would_ say to Sookie.

"Hi there, I'm sorry my staff scared you off, but I think you're suitably fuck-able to chase around the country. By the way, if we hit it off, you'll find out I'm loaded and you'll want for nothing for the rest of your life," didn't seem to be quite the right thing to say… yet.

I forced out the furrows in my brow when I caught Pam's anxious glances from the platform, smiled enthusiastically, and gave her the thumbs-up as the train pulled out the station.

.-oOSOo-.

Amelia and I packed our bags, loaded them into the trunk and set off to Anne Hathaway's Cottage early the next morning. I continued to enjoy what I was beginning to see as the "true tourist" parts of my vacation: travelling to new places, meeting new people, seeing new things. Not that Pam wasn't new, but the shine was really wearing off. We set off for Derbyshire the moment we left the cottage, and I didn't look back.

_Sorry Pam,_ I thought. _Time to look after me and get my butt far away from you and yours._

We arrived at the hostel late; Amelia kept apologizing for the length of the drive, which really wasn't all that long, but despite Amelia's fun company, the time did drag a little.

I tried not to let my thoughts turn to Eric, but from time to time they did and an angry little monster of regret would thump me in the stomach. My big girl panties were firmly in place though, and the occasional readjustment of them reminded me that I had done the right thing.

_Survival first_.

Tall, blond and gorgeous, a very distant second. Unfortunately.

After visiting a museum about rocks (I wasn't sure I ever thought rocks worthy of their own museum, but someone in Derbyshire clearly thinks they are) we headed up to Matlock Bath.

I have nothing to compare Matlock Bath to; I haven't seen enough of England to know if there are other places like it, but to me it was such a pretty and unusual place. The houses were built on roads that swept up tight hills, so they looked like they were built one on top of another. There were cafés, restaurants and little tourist/curio shops at the bottom of this pile of buildings. I could just picture ladies and gentlemen in their fancy clothes, walking up and down the street, long ago. It made me think of picture postcards I'd seen in Gran's picture books of people promenading at the sea front.

Yes. That was how to describe what was in front of me. It was like a picture postcard of the English seaside, but in the middle of the countryside, and I was reminded how much I wanted to see a seaside town. I had forgotten all about that in my little adventure.

Amelia and I stopped at one of the cafés for a sandwich and coffee; it was the best coffee I'd tasted since leaving Lafayette's kitchen. She had to catch the train just after our lunch, so that she could make her connection and head home. I was sorry to have to say goodbye to her, she had been light relief.

"Well, this is me." Amelia said as the train appeared in the distance.

We hugged our good-byes. Cell numbers had already been exchanged in case I found myself back in London, where Amelia lived with her Gran.

"You'll be okay?" she asked.

I put on my best reassuring smile. "I'll be great. I'm going to go up in that cable car, then I think I'll head further north. I'll keep moving now, and finish exploring. Thank you for giving me a bit of a push; it seems as though it was just what I needed."

The train pulled into the station; Amelia picked up her bag and pulled me into a quick hug once more.

"Sookie?" The voice made me freeze; it had the texture of Oreo cookies dipped in milk.

My heart attempted to crack my ribs, my eyes felt like they were stuck out on stalks, and it was all the muscles in my jaw could do to stop my chin from hitting the floor.

Why was he here? Of all the places…

Amelia looked over my shoulder as she whispered in my ear. "You need me to stay?"

"No." I shook my head. "I'll be fine, you go." My voice was uncertain, but Amelia took me at my word and jumped onto the train. The alarm beeped and the doors closed.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, put on my best Sookie smile, and turned around.

"Hey." I said. Two conflicting urges overwhelmed me – the first was to throw myself into his arms and squeeze the life out of him, the other was to turn on my heel and run. Pulled in two directions at once, I remained rooted to the spot.

"Hey." he smiled back.

The train pulled out of the station and everyone else who had gotten off and carried on with their journeys, wherever they would lead. We just stood there, staring at each other, as mute as a couple of dumb old house cats. In my mind I kept daring him to speak first, but he was looking as shocked as I was.

"So," He said, breaking the silence. "Come here often?" The confusion and disbelief on his face was pushed aside by a self-satisfied smirk.

A nervous laugh escaped me.

.-oOEOo-.

Despite all my confident assurances to Pam, looking on Sookie's shocked expression, I found myself completely unable to lie to her. The truth was not something she would cope with hearing either, and I found myself lost for words. I did what I do best; I skirted the issue.

Sookie looked around anxiously, noting that we were alone on the platform. "I was just about to go up in the cable car," she said, jabbing a thumb behind her. "You can join me, if you like…"

I nodded, and felt a smile curl my lips as I took the hand she held out to me.

.-oOSOo-.

We were the only people in the cable car; I supposed the weather was not helping, but Amelia had told me that places were often this quiet during the week. I hadn't sat down by the time it started moving, and the sudden jerk made me lose my footing. Catching the windowed walls before Eric could assist me, my bottom found a metallic perch and I looked on one of the prettiest views I could think of. The weather was grey, and I couldn't see far outside the carriage, but the face looking back at me was more than enough for me.

"You're quite a way from Wales." I said, not knowing what else to say.

Eric nodded. "The air was less than relaxed."

It was my turn to nod; I wondered if someone outside had been watching, whether they'd have thought we were impersonating those nodding dogs you see in the back of people's cars, and I tried not to giggle. "Why here?"

"I have friends, they have a cottage, and we have an understanding."

Wow! Talk about details! He seemed so different, so stilted, just as he was when I first got to Wales, but I figured he was a little shocked at our chance meeting, so I tried not to be annoyed by it.

"So, are you here for long?" He asked as the carriage bounced along its cable.

I shook my head. "I was planning on moving on after this."

Eric nodded. "That's a shame. You still haven't tasted my beans." He smirked, and it looked, for a second, as though he was relaxing back into the Eric I had seen just before I left.

When the carriage reached the top, we both stood. He held his hand out, and I took it; a silent understanding seemed to pass between us, and I smiled a secret smile that the world did not see.

.-oOSOo-.

My head hit the pillow with a satisfied thud, my teeth holding my bottom lip down in case the smile I couldn't contain should crack my face. I stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and released a contented sigh, as my heart rate tried its best to return to a little slower than the hell-cat speed it was racing at.

A large, warm hand reached out across my stomach and lazily grabbed my waist. "Where've you gone?" Eric asked, his eyelids heavy over his icy-blue eyes. He pulled himself up onto his other arm and kissed me deeply.

"Ready for round three?" He asked.

Boy, was I ever!

* * *

**A/N - Okay! Matlock Bath - the cable car leads to the Heights of Abraham. I've not been up the top since I was a VERY small child, but I do love MB - there's a great pub not far from there that does the most AMAZING lamb!**

**I currently have an entry for the Home Sweet Home contest - London Calling. Please read and support the entrants http: / www . fanfiction . net / u / 2623209 / HomeSweetHome **


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